RENEGADE
by SammieRose28
Summary: "I will not follow the commands of a foolish old man who sits in his ivory tower all day with no regard for the lives of his people." Quinn Larkin was ruthless. A dead shot. A girl who was so insubordinate that it had lost her everything. The District 5 victor soon learned that disobedience costs the lives of the people you love but rather than obey, she learned not to love.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

Quinn watched with a satisfied smirk as the residents of District 5 collected their share of her food and clothing. She wanted nothing to do with The Capitol or its lavish things so each month when she received her Victors income she bought just enough for herself and left the rest in the town square. It was a small rebellion against the wishes of President Snow but a rebellion none the less. The young woman had never played by the rules and refused to be controlled by anyone.

She wandered back to her house in the Victors' Village, her blonde hair flying freely in the wind. _Free_. That was not a word that could be easily used in Panem, if it could be used at all. Freewill was crushed until the only remnants were the memories of the loved ones whose lives you spent by talking out of turn. Quinn knew this all too well; she had said no to President Snow more times than it was safe to admit but he had run out of people to take from her. The renegade from District 5 had outsmarted him – she learned not to love because she would _never_ obey.

As she reached the heavy wooden door of her house, she pushed it open. Quinn had grown used to the darkened silence that greeted her every day, used to cooking for one and used to the cold breeze that wrapped its arms around her as she slept. She was utterly alone but she refused to have it any other way.

She peeled off her leather jacket and the screen in the lounge sprung to life, today was the day they announced the Quarter Quell. Quinn sighed and threw herself onto the expensive leather couch, how she hated it. The screen lit up with the nauseating colours of The Capitol and Quinn fought the urge to throw something. These people were clueless, completely oblivious to the suffering around them and it made her sick. She had been to the city a number of times, not out of duty but out of choice; she wanted President Snow to see the girl that he couldn't control in all her glory, she revelled in the thought of his blood boiling in her presence. Like any relatively attractive victor, Snow wanted to prostitute Quinn and when she refused he killed her mother; he tried again, she killed the customer and he killed her father. The cycle continued until Quinn was presented with the broken bodies of her grandmother, her sister, both her brothers and her dog. President Snow thought that that would break her but the defiant young woman had laughed, manically, in his face – she refused to be broken, no matter the tactic, so Snow had no choice but to leave her be. She knew that it wouldn't be forever so she adapted to minimise the impact when he struck her down.

The crowd went wild as the Devil emerged into view, Quinn thought he looked overly pleased with himself. _This can't be good_.

"Ladies and Gentleman," his voice echoed through the screen, sending a chill down her spine, "This is the 75th year of The Hunger Games and it was written in the charter of the games, that every twenty-five years there would be a Quarter Quell. To keep fresh for each new generation, the memory of those who died and the uprising against The Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. Now on this day - seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion - we celebrate the third Quarter Quell. As a reminder, that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of The Capitol, on this third Quarter Quell game, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district."

Quinn's face paled as she gawked at the holographic screen in front of her. Her heart shattered into a million tiny pieces and every memory that she had supressed since her games came crashing over her, drowning her. _She had to go back_. Shock turned into anger and she threw the nearest ornament through the projection. But she didn't stop there, the monster had been released out of his cage in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind. She growled an unearthly growl as she flipped the coffee table, threw the vase and ripped up the curtains. She hated them; she hated _all of them_.

When there was nothing left to shatter or tear, Quinn slumped down into the mass of her destruction, the shattered glass and porcelain tore at her bare legs but she revelled in the pain. Blood trickled down her cheek from the small cut that the last plate had given her, it was a feeling that she would be required to reacquaint herself with. So she sat there, motionless as hot salted tears navigated their way across her delicate features, as her hands trembled with emotion – both terror and wrath – _She had to go back._

The games had turned the sweet little girl from District 5 into a killer, a ferocious beast that couldn't be tamed by even the most experienced of ringmasters. The games had frozen her once loving heart and placed a tornado inside of her mind; the games had turned her into a storm meant only for destruction. The games permanently stained her small hands red. The games destroyed her humanity and if Quinn Larkin knew anything it was that she was going to destroy them. Tear them down, piece by privileged piece and laugh as their world crumbled.

A fire ignited within the girl, her eyes hardened and her jaw set. If they wanted a show, then they were going to get one and nothing was going to get in her way. Nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

 _The string of her bow was wrapped round her neck as the career tribute sat on top of her, pinning her arms. She choked and spluttered as the air escaped her lungs, her blue eyes watered as she struggled against the bigger girl. The knife was just out of her reach but she extended her arms as far she could, focussing on staying conscious; her arm trembled and she felt her elbow joint tear. She refused to die. Chokes escaped her already blue lips and her eyes turned red, blood ran down her neck as the bowstring cut deep; the world blurred until her slender fingers finally grazed the hilt of her knife. With every last ounce of energy, she forced herself closer until she felt the cold handle in the palm of her hand – recharging her batteries. The smirk on her attacker's face was replaced by sheer terror as she reached up and drove the knife through their right eye, entering the brain._

 _The cannon sounded as hot sticky blood burned her cold and calloused skin. With the pressure on her neck removed she could finally breathe, the clammy arena air caught in her throat, making her cough. She couldn't fight the grin that appeared on her bloodied face._

 _"_ _You should have killed me quickly." She smirked._

The bath was freezing when Quinn finally brought her head above the water. Breathlessness always brought back that one memory; she couldn't complain as it was one of the more pleasant ones but she just wished she could forget all together. Goosebumps glittered her pale skin as she wrapped herself in a cotton towel, Quinn was always cold. Physically and mentally, so much so her fellow victors had nicknamed her the Ice Queen.

As she made her way to her closet, her damp feet padding on the marble floor, she thought about her fellow victors. Quinn, as a rule, never got close to anyone after the fate she forced onto her family – she wouldn't allow anyone else to die for her – but she had always had a special bond with Johanna Mason from District 7. She may even go as far as to call her a friend. The two female victors had an understanding, don't get close but have each other's backs, and it worked well for them. They would share a drink and the latest news whenever they were both in The Capitol but they would never allow themselves to get attached. The District 5 girl had also run into Haymitch Abernathy from 12 a handful of times, they had always shared a mutual respect for one another and she had always been on his Christmas card list. Then there was Finnick Odair. Quinn loathed the victor from District 4. She always seemed to be unfortunate enough to run into him whenever she was in The Capitol and each time he cemented her feelings towards him by being his overbearing, flirty and generally obnoxious self. Quinn couldn't see why the women of Panem were so fascinated, in her opinion, he was nothing more than a pretty face with whitened teeth.

She imagined that she would be seeing them all relatively soon as she dressed for the Reaping. A black dress seemed to be the appropriate attire for a death sentence. The young girl knew that she would be back in the arena as she was the only able bodied female victor and if her name wasn't chosen then she would have to volunteer, the sliver of morality she still had dictated it. But Quinn made herself a promise as she pinned her blonde hair up – she was _not_ going to die in that arena.

* * *

The peacekeepers led the District 5 victors to the Justice Building like lambs to the slaughter. The townspeople cheered as they saw their local celebrities lining up beside the two glass bowls on the steps of the building. Quinn's facial expression was void of emotion unlike her companions who were either smiling and waving or crying their hearts out. _Pathetic._

Ophelia Fontaine, the escort for 5, stepped up to the podium and began her introductions. The already tall woman wore ridiculously high heels and her lettuce green hair and candy pink dress with puffed out shoulders assaulted Quinn's eyes and her vivacious voice battered Quinn's eardrums. The woman was the epitome of Capitol life and her naivety was nauseating but the victor from 5 had to admit that the woman did care about the tributes that she fattened up and led to their deaths.

"Ladies first!" Ophelia squeaked and clapped her hands together before selecting a piece of paper with a mouse-like gloved hand. "The female tribute from District 5 is…Porter Millicent Tripp!"

"I volunteer as tribute." Quinn immediately spoke as she stepped forward without a thought. The crowd gasped and some protested, the girl frowned as she had never realised the impact that she had had on their lives but in that moment she realised that perhaps she wasn't as alone as she had thought and that was dangerous. Porter smiled at Quinn gratefully, she had been her mentor during her games and had mentored alongside her in recent years. There was no way that the older woman would have survived these games, she had obtained a spinal injury on the last day of her games and was required to use a neck brace, the beauty was an excellent model but she would have died during the initial bloodbath.

"Very well, the female tribute for District 5 – Quinn Larkin!" the green haired woman chirped, "Now onto the boys…The male tribute for District 5 is Griffin Ramsey!"

A dark-haired man in his late 40s stepped forward. Quinn stood with a stony expression as the escort shouted their names one final time. She turned on her heel and immediately entered the Justice Building followed by Griffin, Ophelia and a number of peacekeepers. She refused to look at anyone as she made her way to the train.

* * *

The train journey was fairly quick; District 5 was relatively close to The Capitol as it provided all the power to the city. Quinn maintained her silent resolve, only answering questions that were addressed to her. Ophelia had spent the time gushing about the new training facilities and tribute centre. She warned the defiant girl to smile as the train pulled into the station.

As the doors slid open with a hiss the tributes were nudged out into the crowd. Flashes blinded Quinn as she plastered a smile on her face and waved to the crowd. It was completely against her principals but she refused to let Snow think that he was getting to her. The crowd chanted her name and some threw flowers, Ophelia placed her hand on the smaller girl's shoulder to guide her through the cameras.

Once they had safely navigated the jungle of neon colours and flashing lights the victors from District 5 and their escort entered the tribute centre. It was large and very metallic, very futuristic Quinn thought. As she moved through the centre and made her way to the lift she passed some of the other victors – all of whom nodded at her in respect. She smiled in return and entered the lift with her team.

Each District pair were housed on the floor that corresponded with their number. As the victors from 5 entered their living space, they went their separate ways. Quinn locked herself in her room with a file on all of the other tributes, although she had known most of the victors personally for a number of years, she wasn't familiar with their fighting styles and if she was going to survive then she needed to know their strengths and their weaknesses better than she knew her own.

* * *

Haymitch had the exact same idea as the female victor from 5 and had prepared a presentation for Katniss and Peeta to talk about potential allies and strategies. He rolled his eyes at Katniss as she was her usual uncooperative self. _No wonder people don't like her._ This year his tributes were dealing with experienced, trained killers and they were the fresh meat so he wanted to make sure they were prepared.

"Cashmere and Gloss, brother and sister – District 1. They won back to back games, Capitol favourites, lots of sponsors so they will be lethal. And the other half of the Career pack, Brutus and Enorbaria"

"What's with her teeth?" Katniss asked with a frown.

"She had them filed into fangs so that she could rip peoples' throats out."

"She's committed I'll give her that." Peeta commented.

"Wiress and Beetee – not fighters but brilliant and weird, real tech savvy! He won his games by electrocuting six tributes at once." Haymitch moved onto the next tributes, District 6. "Morphlings masters of camouflage, basically won their games by hiding until everyone else was dead, self-medicating ever since which I applaud, not a threat."

He swiftly moved onto the next tribute: "Finnick Odair right?" Katniss asked.

"Yes. He won his games at fourteen, youngest ever, _extremely_ humble."

"You're kidding?"

"Yes I'm kidding." Haymitch scoffed in amusement, "He's a peacock, a total preener but he's the Capitol darling, they love him here. Charming, smart and very skilled in combat especially in water."

"What about weaknesses?" Peeta asked as he leant forward in interest.

"One. Mags. She volunteered for Annie, Mags was his mentor and basically raised him, if he's trying to protect her in any way it exposes him."

"A guy like that has to know that she's not gonna make it and when it really comes down to it he won't protect her." Katniss interrupted, insensitively.

"Well Katniss, I just hope when she goes she goes quickly. She's actually a wonderful lady." Haymitch retorted, his tone softened as he thought of the older lady. Katniss looked down briefly, in what could be assumed as guilt, before Haymitch continued. "And that brings me to Quinn Larkin – District 5. Favours a bow and arrow but is precise with any weapon she is given. She's ruthless and calculated. The Capitol love her, despite her best efforts and she is probably the biggest threat."

"Weaknesses?" Peeta asked again.

"None." Haymitch replied and smirked as Katniss finally took an interest, "She doesn't play by the rules and it cost her everything so she keeps everyone and everything at arm's length. You need her on your side but it won't be easy and you'll have competition from the others who have known her for years. But if you can get her on board, you won't have to worry about anything or anyone else, she's the most loyal person I've ever met."

Katniss listened intently to Haymitch's advice regarding the girl who couldn't be much older than herself and she was surprised to find herself intrigued. Quinn Larkin might have been the only tribute that Katniss would actively chase after; it seemed as though they may have a few things in common and if she could only grab her attention then she could potentially have a strong alliance and be able to keep Peeta safe and as much as it pained Katniss to admit, she couldn't do it alone.

* * *

Having brushed up on her knowledge of the other victors, Quinn sat twirling a knife between her fingers as she stared out of the window mindlessly. She was thinking about her first time in the Capitol. The change in culture had been a huge shock to the system and as devastated as she was to have been reaped, it had been washed out of her system by amazement. The style was something from another world, anything you could think of – they had a potion for it. The Capitol had astonished her merely a few years ago but that shine had been replaced by a dull cloud of oppression. The more time Quinn spent here, the more she noticed. She was lucky in District 5, it was one of the wealthier districts but there were people in the poorer Districts who owned one pair of tattered shoes and threadbare clothes and the people of The Capital complained that they had too many outfits to choose from, they wasted fabric on extra bows or added length. There were people starving in the poorer Districts and the people of The Capitol were drinking potions to make themselves sick so that they could eat more! Quinn grew angrier as her thoughts spiralled out of control, suddenly a thud knocked her back to reality.

Griffin watched with widened eyes as the girl's expression grew dark and she unconsciously thrust her knife through the wooden windowsill on which she sat.

"You doing okay?" The older man asked her cautiously as she snapped out of her mind and stared at the imbedded knife.

"Yeah. Fine. You?"

"As well as can be expected…I was wondering, are we going to be allies in there?"

"Well I'm not going to kill you; I just hope you return the favour." Quinn answered honestly. Griffin smiled and held out a hand for her to shake before she returned her gaze to the window.

"Deal."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

Quinn was pulled out of the storm that brewed in her mind by the arrival of her styling team. It took every ounce of self-control that she possessed to refrain from stabbing them in the eyes with the very tweezers that they plucked her with. Rei, Trinity and Arlo were used to the girl's icy blue stares and silent threats, they had witnessed first-hand the transformation that their victor went through; from the innocent naïve little girl who was all sunshine and smiles to the independent, strong, young woman who had learned that the route to self-preservation was behind a tall and impenetrable wall. Arlo, who had been particularly close to the girl before she shut him out, knew that the little girl who had existed before the games was still in there somewhere even if she was buried alive in a deep trench of ice and snow.

The stylists had decided to represent the hydroelectric power that District 5 produced through the hues of blues and gold so after Quinn was sufficiently waxed, scrubbed and bleached, Rei began her makeup. As much as it pained her to admit it, Quinn rather liked the look – it made her look powerful. Her lips were painted a neutral beige, her blue eyes were framed with darkened eyelashes and lined black and underneath them were thick blue strips that extended from her hairline to the outside edge of her eye sockets. Once Rei was satisfied, the victor was passed onto Trinity who pinned her fringe to the top of her head and braided small pieces of hair at either side, letting them loop round to behind her delicate ears. Both sides of her hair were then French

plaited and pinned at the back of her head; the rest of her blonde waves were left to fall over her shoulders with the odd braid at the front. Quinn grew tired of being prodded at, her expression said as much and she grew even more irritated when the pair in front of her squealed in delight at her appearance. _At least someone is happy_.

Growling in annoyance, she stood up and made her way to Arlo who had made her outfit for her. He was much gentler with the impatient tribute and soon he turned her around to face her reflection in the floor-length mirror. Quinn raised her eyebrows in surprise, District 5 were known for their god awful costumes at the tributes' parade but this one was beautiful; from the long bohemian skirt that resembled waves in whispers of white and blue and the blue bralet to the golden high heeled sandals with lightning bolts up the centre and the gold lightning bolt belt, earrings and bracelet. She smiled just enough for her stylist to see and it was genuine unlike her signature smirk.

* * *

Quinn stood beside her chariot as she absentmindedly played with the mane of one of the horses. Griffin was trying to make friends with some of the other victors but she had no interest it that. She wouldn't get close, even if she wanted to. Her district partner was nice enough but he tried too hard and that annoyed her; they were about to be thrown into an arena and expected to kill each other so she didn't understand the need to make friends first. Quinn wasn't about to sit and share life stories over a cup of tea with a group of people who were plotting her death. Yes, she had people who she'd rather not eliminate, like Johanna, but she wouldn't allow herself to rule it out. She couldn't – everyone she had ever cared about died and the more time she spent in the Capitol with the woman, the more she wanted to call her a friend and that title alone would train a sniper to her head. She had angered too many powerful people, namely Snow, so she could no longer afford to play happy families with anyone. She couldn't afford to waste another life. Quinn wasn't sure why she always had to be so disobedient, there were things she hadn't done due to promises she had made but most of the time she refused to cooperate because it wasn't in her nature.

"Who would have thought, The Ice Queen volunteering as a tribute!" A voice rang out from behind her. It was the taunting tone that she had grown to recognise as Finnick Odair. Now that was one person she would have no problem eliminating.

"Perhaps I just jumped at the chance to kill you." Quinn smirked as she turned around to meet his gaze.

"We both know that's not true!" Finnick laughed. His eyes glistened cheekily and he grinned, observing the young woman as she raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow challengingly.

"It seems you've lost half of your outfit." Her hardened blue eyes trailed over the District 4 victor who wore nothing more than a gold net around his waist. "I applaud your tactic though, distract them so they don't catch on to the fact that you're nothing more than a pretty face."

"You'd find out that there's a lot more to me that my dashing good looks, if you'd give me a chance." Quinn scoffed, rolling her eyes at his response and Finnick fought a grin as he took a step closer to whisper in her ear, "You're just scared that I'll end up melting through that cold exterior of yours and find that the Tin Man really does have a heart…" before he placed a lingering kiss on her cheek and wandered over to Katniss, but not before flashing her his famous smile.

"I hope you were playing nice!" Johanna smirked at Quinn who flitted her eyes to the ceiling briefly. She had always liked the girl from 5, they understood each other's abrasion and their reluctance to let anyone in and she was the closest thing Johanna had to a friend.

"Nice outfit." Quinn snorted as she took in the green leafy catsuit and brown bark corset. Johanna merely smirked in return and flipped up her middle finger.

Quinn's gaze reached Katniss Everdeen who looked like a fish out of water. She was intrigued by her skills as a fellow archer and couldn't wait to upstage her in training the next day. She watched as Finnick flirted with the girl from 12 and rolled her eyes. _He really doesn't know when to quit._

"Quinn, right?" Someone spoke, forcing her to pull her gaze from Finnick and Katniss. "I'm Peeta."

The girl raised an eyebrow, suspicious at his sudden introduction. Quinn was usually very good at reading people and she could tell from his demeanour that his intentions were genuine. Since his games last year, she had always thought him to be weak. Katniss was the strong one and the only reason that he was still alive right now. The baker's son was intelligent she would give him that but she knew that he was also naïve and that wasn't a useful quality in this world.

"Nice to meet you." She answered returning his handshake with a blank expression. Quinn didn't have time to feign niceties. She had nothing in common with the boy from 12 and she wasn't a very good conversationalist. "I guess your wedding's off then." She added rather insensitively.

Peeta shrugged in response, "I bet it'll be harder for you having to go back after seeing what life's like afterwards."

"I've got nothing left to lose." Quinn shrugged. She bit her tongue to stop herself from saying anything else. The young woman was shocked to find how easy it was to talk to him, even though they had only exchanged a few words she felt like she wanted to tell him the darkest of thoughts that crossed her overactive mind.

The two victors were on completely different ends of the spectrum. Quinn never let anyone close enough to know what was in her heart but despite this, Peeta felt like he could trust the hard-hearted girl from District 5.

* * *

Quinn didn't bother smiling or waving at the crowd during the Tribute Parade. She stood solidly staring out in front of her with a toughened glare only moving to smirk at Snow as her chariot passed his podium. He returned her glower, infuriated by the rebel that he couldn't strike down due to her popularity with the people of the Capitol – no, he couldn't just kill her, it would lead to riots but he could do everything in his power to ensure her death in the arena and he promised himself that it would be slow and painful. The girl had nothing to lose and that made her extremely dangerous. Snow had always managed to bend people to his will, one way or another, but Quinn Larkin was something entirely different and the last thing he needed was the people of Panem seeing her as some kind of idol, someone who would fight for their lives.

The victor from District 5 hopped down from the chariot, she hated being paraded around. The Career victors passed and nodded their heads at her, Cashmere and Gloss even offered her a small smile. Quinn knew that she already had a number of tributes who wanted to be her allies but she didn't care. If she had to go into the arena, then she was going to kill every last one of them. She refused to die, no matter what the almighty President Snow threw her way.

Quinn Larkin coming out of the Quarter Quell _alive._


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

Ophelia was extra chirpy that morning as she pulled an exhausted and rather angry Quinn out of bed. The lack of sleep showed on the young woman's face as the escort coaxed her into eating; she would need her strength for training.

Quinn pushed her food around her plate with her knife, she was fed up. Fed up of the sleepless nights, fed up of the Quarter Quell and especially fed up with the idiotic woman in front of her who commented on _everything_ she did. The victor from 5 felt her blood pressure and temperature rising as the escort told her to eat, she felt the grip on her knife tighten until her knuckles were white as the escort told her to smile, she felt her jaw tightening and her gaze hardening as the escort told her to mind her manners and look at her as she spoke and she felt herself snap as the escort shouted her name. Before the girl could blink, she had driven her knife through the escort's hand and stormed out, smashing a vase on her way out.

The screams of District 5's escort echoed through the suite but it fell on deaf ears, Quinn silently dressed for training and pulled her hair up into a tight ponytail as she stared into the reflection of her cold blue eyes. Satisfied with her appearance she wordlessly marched out of the suite with her head held high, ignoring the shouts of Ophelia and Griffin. The victor smirked as the elevator consumed her. Today was going to be one hell of a day.

* * *

"What the hell was that?!" Griffin shouted as he stormed over to his district partner who smirked at the anger in his tone. The room went silent as the other victors turned to face the pair.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The girl replied as she looked up at him, her eyes smiled as a slight pout resonated on her lips in defiance.

"You know damn fine. She's in the infirmary."

Quinn rolled her eyes as she scoffed, "Oh please, it was a scratch."

"She's going to expect an apology and if you want to be properly represented then I suggest you give it to her." Griffin grimaced as he tried to reason with the girl.

"She'll be waiting a very long time." Quinn answered as she wandered over to the archery station and programmed the simulator. "And I represent myself." She added with a wink before she began the session and lifted her bow.

Katniss watched the girl intently as she never missed a shot and smiled slightly in admiration as she shot the men behind her without as much as a glance. _Haymitch was right, she is good._

There was a deep-seated anger flowing through Quinn's veins that day, she felt icier than usual and it fuelled her performance in training. The girl from District 5 had lived up to her reputation. After beating the trainers in hand to hand combat, she moved onto the trident.

"Your stance is off." Finnick spoke from behind her.

Quinn turned to look at him and as she maintained eye contact she launched the trident. "Oh it is?" She asked with feigned innocence as the weapon sunk into the head of the target dummy.

Finnick grinned at the girl as he wondered what went on in her head. He had heard about a conversation she had had with Gloss from District 1. "I hear the careers want you as their ally." He started, "You don't want to be getting in with the wrong people."

"Oh and I suppose you're the right people?" The young woman retorted.

"I could be…" He suggested leaning towards her as he maintained eye contact.

"I might take them up on the offer, after all everyone needs cannon fodder." Quinn spoke coldly before whispering, "But you would know about that wouldn't you?" And nodding towards Mags.

Finnick looked like he had just been slapped in the face, it wasn't a secret that the old woman from his district was a weakness of his. Anger bubbled inside of him as the girl raised her eyebrows briefly and stalked off.

"Is that what your family were?" He shouted after her, she slowed to a stop and for a split second he had thought that he had given her a taste of her own medicine. He soon realised he was wrong as the girl turned to face him.

"Perhaps the Tin Man really doesn't have a heart." She grinned manically.

The grin remained on her face as she sat beside Peeta who was at the camouflage station. He simply looked at her and shook his head as he fought a smile. He liked her, he had no idea why but he did. The pair sat silently working away, no words were needed – Quinn had certainly spoken enough during the training session. She admired Peeta's skill and decided that perhaps he was useful for something. Time passed fairly quickly and as the day drew to a close, the boy from 12 stood up and made his way to the exit, Katniss in tow.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He spoke gently to Quinn who didn't respond.

Johanna had watched the girl rile up both her district partner and Finnick and shook her head in laughter. The icy victor was something else entirely and as she left the training room, the victor from District 7 watched as Finnick's gaze followed her.

"Aw, what's wrong Odair? Larkin still immune to your charms?" she laughed as she exited the room also.

* * *

After Quinn had showered and changed an Avox handed her a note:

 _I have a proposition for you. Roof 30 mins – H_

She frowned slightly but curiosity got to better of her so she left the suite, much to the distaste of Ophelia (who still awaited an apology), and made her way to the roof.

The cool air wrapped around her as she made her way to the edge. Haymitch soon came into view and handed her a large glass of scotch. The pair had drunk together a few times whilst mentoring during previous games.

"So…what do you want?"

"I had a whole speech that I used for the others but I know there's no point with you. We're rebelling against The Capitol. Against Snow." Haymitch answered as he took a large swig out of his glass and watched the girl raise an eyebrow before taking a drink herself. He explained the whole plan to her – the Gamemaker who was on board, the escape from the arena and the other victors who had agreed. He also stressed the fact that Katniss and Peeta had to remain in the dark. "Now, it will be easier for you because I don't know how you managed it but Katniss wants you as an ally, so you won't need to convince her that she can trust you."

"So District 13 still exists?" Quinn questioned as Haymitch filled their glasses again. She mulled it over briefly. "You know I don't work well with others but I'm in – on _one condition_."

"Name it."

"Snow's mine. I will be the one to end his life, me and only me and it will be however I choose, no interference." The girl demanded as she stared challengingly into Haymitch's eyes. "Promise me that and I will get your Mockingjay out of that arena alive."

Haymitch smiled and extended his hand to her, "Deal."

Quinn took his hand but just as he went to shake she twisted it and forced him to his knees before adding: "But if anyone takes that away from me, I will kill each and every one of you." She twisted his hand further until he nodded then threw it away causing him to fall back.

"Damn girl, my hand!" Haymitch exclaimed as he stood up, "Now you've got to pour!"

The victor from 5 smirked and filled their glasses. She respected the man, a lot more than she would admit and they had always got along well. He knew her limits and she knew his; conversation was based solely on trivial things, like the weather, and the current games – that was the only reason Quinn tolerated his company.

As the bottle was drained of the last drop, the pair sat and looked out over the city. They were both quite drunk so Haymitch soon stood: "Well, I better go inside before Katniss no-fun Everdeen comes up and drags me down." He slurred causing the girl to chuckle briefly, it was an alien sound and came as a shock to Haymitch. He smiled and added, "Night kicker. Try and sleep before your individual assessment tomorrow." Before leaving her alone on the roof.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and her blue eyes reflected the skyline as she stared over the Capitol. Quinn marvelled at how something so ugly could look so beautiful at night. She thought over the day, she had infuriated quite a few people and her drunken mind began to regret it until the sober element piped up and kicked it to the ground; she would apologise for nothing. She would never apologise for the way she acted because Snow would never apologise for making her that way. Before him she was innocent, she loved with all her heart and she laughed with all her soul. _She was happy._ Now she was nothing but a shell of the girl that she used to be. Nothing but a killer. Nothing but the Ice Queen. Someone who wouldn't allow herself to love; who wouldn't allow herself the smallest moment of happiness. Someone who had a target painted on her back; someone that everyone watched, waiting for her to make a mistake.

The door to the roof opened, breaking her from her thoughts: "You forget something?" She asked turning round, only to be met by Finnick. "Oh. I thought you were someone else." She added monotonously before returning her gaze to the skyline.

Silently, Finnick sat down beside her. He always went to the roof to clear his head; it had become a place of serenity to him. The silence between them was deafening and Finnick found himself glancing at the girl, he felt like he should say something but he didn't have the words. He studied her expression, as usual it didn't give much away but as she bit her bottom lip he knew a storm was brewing in her mind.

"You're staring." Quinn muttered without looking at him. He quickly returned his gaze to the city below them.

"I heard you stabbed your escort." He spoke stoically.

"You seem to hear an awful lot about me."

"You seem to do an awful lot to make yourself worth talking about."

Quinn finally turned to look at her fellow victor, only to realise that he was already looking at her. She thought over her next words and tried to prevent them from escaping her lips but her brain was fuzzy with alcohol. "I never used to be like this…" she blurted out.

"I know. Believe it or not, I know what it's like to put on a mask." Finnick answered honestly, he knew that she had been drinking and that she would shut him out again in the morning but he found himself wanting to be there with her in that moment, just to get a glimpse behind her façade. The victor from 4 had always felt drawn to the seemingly cold-hearted girl, they had a lot in common even if she wouldn't admit it. They both knew what it was like to lose everyone; what it was like to feel terrified of getting close to someone new.

"It's easier." The young victor shrugged, "He gets to everyone, no matter what you do so why give him the satisfaction?" The sober part of her conscience cursed her. _Shut up, you idiotl._ But the intoxicated side took over and enjoyed the moment, she was finally able to tell someone how she felt and they understood, they felt it too.

"You still need to live though. It might be easy to shut yourself away and act like you couldn't care less but you just end up hurting." Finnick whispered almost inaudibly as he looked down at his hands. He had never confided in anyone before, always hiding behind a persona of cockiness and flirtation. He knew that the girl beside him was exactly the same; it takes one to know one. Quinn nodded slowly as she studied him, she had never seen this side of Finnick Odair but then again she had never let herself close enough to.

"You could have liked me before my games. God, I could have let myself like you…" she blurted out before her brain could acknowledge what she had just said. Realising, she quickly moved her gaze back to the skyline and spoke "I guess you never really know how much the games can change you until it's too late."

"Who says I don't like you now? In this moment?" Finnick spoke quietly as he placed a hand on hers. Quinn jumped slightly at the contact and glanced down at their hands before looking him in the eyes. She could tell he was being sincere and smiled slightly.

Suddenly, her sober side kicked in as the gap between them closed. She automatically moved away, quickly catching herself. "I have to go." She muttered, standing abruptly and rushing off of the roof. She didn't stop until she was in her room on the fifth floor.

Throwing herself face first onto her bed, she screamed into her pillow. She had gotten too close. She had opened her heart when she promised herself that she wouldn't. In one moment, she had undone the years of work that she had put into making herself untouchable. In one moment, she had made herself vulnerable. In one moment, she had painted a target on Finnick Odair's chest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

Quinn never slept that night. Instead she stared out of the tall glass window that overlooked the city, slowly feeling the alcohol evaporate out of her system. She had been foolish and she was furious. The only way she could think to describe the feeling that pummelled her chest was how an architect would feel if someone bulldozed their first building, in its entirety, the second they stepped away to view their creation in awe. Except Quinn was both the architect and the bulldozer; her own worst enemy.

The atmosphere around the young woman was tense to say the least and it remained that way as the tributes waited for their individual training assessments. She stared straight ahead, her jaw tightly set; her eyes held a hardened ice cold gaze that accented the dark rings that protruded her cheekbones. Her blonde hair fell out of its elastic cage in messy wisps around her sullen face. Yet even in her stormy unkempt ways, the victor from 5 looked dangerously beautiful.

Quinn was at war with herself, her heart against her head. Her mind against itself. She would break down if she weren't so stubborn. Cry if she weren't so proud. Crave the comfort of another if she weren't so smart. That was what had pushed her into this mess – the lower of inhibition and the way it felt to feel. She had grown so used to barricading her emotions behind her icy walls that she had forgotten what it felt like to feel. Forgotten what it was like to be human. In a perfect world, Quinn would love freely, she would laugh happily but this was not a perfect world, it was President Snow's world. After her drunken confessions, she wondered if she could ever feel like that, after the rebellion, after she slowly tore Snow apart limb by limb and cackled as she crumbled his world both physically and mentally. Quinn Larkin silently wondered, within the torment of her own mind, if she would ever be free; free enough to feel.

As she sat pondering her fate, she felt a pair of eyes vying for her attention. She needn't look up to know it was Finnick. She had left him on the roof and avoided him since, she couldn't slip up again. In her peripheral vision, she could see the hurt that radiated from his green eyes but she could not care. She wouldn't allow it.

Quinn's gaze scanned over the other victors and landed on Peeta Mellark who sat calmly beside Katniss, feeling her gaze, he turned and smiled warmly. The boy from 12 was pleasantly surprised when Quinn returned his smile before continuing her visual assessment of the room, he had grown fond of the girl, in the short time her had known her, despite her frostiness and lack of conversation. He would even go as far as to argue that he understood her; their friendship was an unspoken one, one that Quinn would undoubtedly terminate if she had known he had referred to them in such a nature. She unknowingly put him at ease and he trusted her, regardless of her countless threats. Peeta knew that Quinn was real, she said what she thought and even with her self-preserving nature and icy exterior, Peeta Mellark would trust Quinn Larkin in that arena before anyone else in the waiting room.

As Finnick was called for assessment, Quinn realised that she would be next. Every muscle in her body ached from overexertion, her brain felt fuzzy from exhaustion and every nerve in her body twitched. When she was finally called for her assessment, Quinn decided that she couldn't be bothered.

"Miss Larkin, you have ten minutes to present your chosen skill." Plutarch Heavensbee, the Head Gamemaker spoke.

Smirking tenaciously, Quinn picked up a silver bow and one single arrow. She had no intentions of exerting herself for ten minutes.

The spectators watched keenly, as the girl from District 5 ripped a piece of cloth from the camouflage station, blindfolded herself, spun in a circle and shot an arrow through the heart of target dummy. Having felt like she had shown enough, she ripped the blindfold from her eyes, frowning as her eyes readjusted to the light and bowed in mockery before leaving the room. Quinn would not play their game, she would not stand and be judged for her skill so The Capitol could use her potential to scare her fellow victors. These tributes were seasoned killers, if you were identified as their target then you would die regardless of your pretty little scores in training – it was as simple as that.

* * *

Quinn scowled as she listened to Caesar Flickerman introduce their interviews as the last time they would see all but one of the victors. She was exceptionally angry today and it was beginning to show. Tomorrow they would be in the arena, killing each other for sport and the idiots of The Capitol seemed upset. It was all fake. Her hands clenched into fists as her stylists fixed the tiny imperfections on her ensemble and the soft grazes that their fingers made irritated her beyond words. The tributes stood in a line and waited to be called to the stage, Haymitch had told the girl from 5 that the victors were to try and stop the Quarter Quell; She had laughed in his face and called him deluded alongside other profanities. Quinn was yet to decide if she was going to cooperate.

She grew even more annoyed as her stylists patted her face and teased at her hair, her scowl deepened as she huffed in annoyance and as the buzzing makeup artist ignored her warnings, she raised her fist ready to strike. Suddenly a warm hand wrapped around hers and as the steam flew out of her ears, she heard a muffled demand and her stylists disappeared. The grip on her hand remained as she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to diffuse her irrational anger. As Quinn took a deep breath it began to dissipate. The owner of the hand remained silent as if they knew what the girl needed, as if they knew how to prevent the nuclear explosion.

The victor from District 5 had no idea what was wrong with her, aside from her fury at her actions the previous night. She felt like a ticking time bomb, like the slightest thing could set her off and as it turned out she was right. If it hadn't had been for the person who stood beside her, she would have struck a member of her team. Quinn was out of control. This notion would have scared anyone of normal sanity but to Quinn it was expected, she had always been impulsive but what had scared her the most was the fact that she continued to hold the hand of her stylist's saviour and she had no intention of letting go. In that moment, the hand was an anchor – holding her to the ground, forcing her to focus on the interview ahead. Quinn refused to look towards the owner, for if she did then she would need to let go; the young woman had an inclination to whom the hand belonged to but as long as it remained unconfirmed, she could fool herself into thinking it did not matter, she wasn't breaking any of the rules she had set herself.

Before long the owner of the hand squeezed hers gently and slowly pulled their rough hand away as they made their way to the stage for their interview. Quinn's time with Caesar was next and so now she was positive to the identity of the hand but naturally she chose to ignore it. Quinn Larkin couldn't give in to her feelings, the world was watching. Snow was watching.

"Finnick, I understand that you have a message for someone out there, a special somebody? Let me hear it." Caesar spoke as the camera zoomed into the face of the District 4 victor.

"My love. You have my heart for all eternity. If I…If I die in that arena, know that I'll have done everything I could to protect you."

Quinn watched the interview from backstage and smiled as the crowd erupted into uproar and how women wept for him. She couldn't deny that he was a brilliant actor.

"Now, it gives me great pleasure to introduce our District 5 victor, Quinn Larkin!" Caesar grinned as she stepped onto the stage. Cheers and whistles for the crowd deafened her and it took all of the will power she possessed to lock away her scowl and smile. "Still one of our favourites! Isn't she beautiful?"

"You should know by now that flattery doesn't get you anywhere!" Quinn spoke through a forced smile as the crowd laughed.

"As you know, tonight is a very emotional night for all of us," Caesar started in a sombre tone; Quinn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You have become known as the Ice Queen to your fellow victors so I guess we are all wondering, how you are feeling about going back into the arena?"

"What none of you seem to understand is the fact that our feelings don't matter." She started, growing increasingly angered by the false emotion that the people of The Capitol and the performances of her fellow victors. They were pawns; pawns in a war between two sides. They were cannon fodder; cannon fodder in a war between good and evil. No amount of crocodile tears was going to protect them. They were going into that arena and soon enough they were going to remember what it's like to feel the warm blood of your friends and your allies between your fingers. They were going to remember how it felt to scrub your hands until the blood was replaced with your own. They were going to remember that no amount of pleading would prevent this and no amount of water would wash away the scars that were so deeply embedded into their souls. "We are going into that arena and we are going to have to kill to survive. Kill or be killed, that's the way this works. So don't waste your tears, be they real or not, on our wasted lives and find something worth living for because you don't know how long you've got left. But know that I will fight harder than I've ever fought before and you won't get rid of me that easily."

Every soul in the studio clapped and cheered as Quinn stared into the camera daringly, aiming her last words at the President himself. Her set jaw and her ice blue eyes threw down a gauntlet, taunted him; she was fearless. _Make your move, Snow._

"Spoken like a true leader!" Caesar smiled as the crowd cheered, little did he know that the girl from 5 had just added fuel to the tiny flame that burned in rebellion. She had unwittingly provided the people with the most dangerous weapon of all. Hope.

Quinn took her place beside Finnick on the podium with the victors from Districts 1-4. She felt like a weight had been taken off of her shoulders as adrenaline rushed through her body. _One last act of insubordination_. Haymitch caught her eye from backstage and her facial expression remained defiant as he grinned; he knew the girl would pull something out of the bag but that? That was unexpected. Finnick glanced sideways at the blonde beside him who stood with her head held high and her shoulders back. He had never seen that side of her and in that moment he admired her more than he ever had. His feelings were mirrored in all of the tributes who knew of the rebellion. Johanna Mason had always known that Quinn had the ability to captivate a room, hold their hearts in the palm of her hand and that was a powerful ability but she had never seen her use it for any other means than destruction and that single notion had left her in awe.

She remained a captor of her mind as the interviews continued, she had no interest in what any of them had to say. At least that was the case until Peeta had announced that he had already married Katniss and that she was pregnant. Finnick smirked beside her evidently thinking the same thing. _Yeah right._ Although as the crowd shouted for Snow to call of the games, she had to commend the boy for his intuition.

As the broadcast came to a close, the victors stood together and held each other's hands, raising them in the air as a sign of unity before the lights were rushed off and they were ushered off of the stage. Haymitch gave her a nod of approval before everyone dispersed.

* * *

The news soon spread that the games were to be continued. Quinn rolled her eyes at her team's deflation. Of course they were going ahead, how else would Snow remove the threat of rebellion. Calling off the Quarter Quell would do nothing but show the rebelling districts that if they shouted or cried enough then The Capitol would bend to their will and that would never happen. Not until Quinn had sent an arrow through each of their beloved President's eyes.

She removed herself from the environment before she had the urge to stab one of them again. Katniss exited the lift on the fifth floor as she went in search of the female victor. She approached Quinn as she gazed out of the window, something that she had grown quite accustomed to doing. The pair had made no effort to spend time together as neither of them were interested in making friends but the Girl on Fire couldn't help but notice the subtle acquaintanceship she had with Peeta and it made her curious. As she joined her by the window no words were spoken until they were alone.

"So. Haymitch tells me that you want to be my ally." Quinn spoke in a business-like tone without removing her gaze from the world below the window.

"We could help each other out."

"I don't need any help. I'm quite effective of my own, thanks."

Katniss knew that would be her response and couldn't help but smile slightly. Before meeting the girl, she had wondered how the whole of Panem could love someone who was so cold, someone who ran from their affections and did everything in their power to reverse them but after meeting her, she understood. Quinn Larkin was an enigma; she puzzled everyone and that (alongside her obvious charm) was part of her allure.

"But I need yours." She demanded.

"Okay you have my attention." Quinn smirked as she moved her stare to the girl beside her. She knew that she had already agreed to ally with them for the rebellion but it didn't mean that she couldn't play hard to get; force the great Katniss Everdeen to beg.

"I need to keep Peeta safe and you seem to be my best bet." Katniss spoke grudgingly. As the victor from 5 raised an eyebrow, she sighed and muttered. "Please."

Quinn smirked in victory as she began to walk away, leaving Katniss waiting. As she approached the doors, that led back into her suite, she spoke provocatively:

"Who'd have thought it, The Ice Queen allied with the Girl on Fire. I'll see you in the arena."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Please let me know what you think!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

The black and silver bodysuit clung tight to her skin as the tube raised her into the arena. Her arm throbbed where her tracker had been injected and her stomach churned nauseatingly as her hands trembled with adrenaline and her heart beat out of her chest. Quinn had said no goodbyes because she was coming out alive; she was going to fulfil her role in the rebellion and then she was going to kill President Snow. That would be her salvation. That would keep her going; keep her killing. The platform on which she stood came to a halt, her eyes were flooded with artificial sunlight and her nose was teased with the smell of salt water. As her eyes adjusted she heard the countdown.

10

Her fingers twitched as she positioned herself ready to dive into the water.

9

She scanned the Cornucopia for a weapon, smirking as her ice blue eyes landed on two bows and two quivers of arrows. One for her and one meant for Katniss.

8

Her eyes searched the tributes as she tried to locate Peeta. Quinn calculated that he would need her help first.

7

She found the boy and he sent her a brief nod; he would watch her back if she watched his.

6

Every muscle in her body tensed and her blonde hairs stood on end.

5

She scanned the podiums for Katniss, she had a made a promise and intended to keep it.

4

Katniss sent her a knowing glance, they would fight through the bloodbath together.

3

One last glance to Peeta.

2

She analysed the careers and picked her first victim.

1

As the gunshot rang out and 75th Hunger Games began, she dived head first into the ice cold water; her skin prickled and a shiver ran up her spine unacknowledged as she entered autopilot and swam as fast as she possibly could. Within no time her small palms grazed the rocks at the base of the cornucopia and she pulled herself up. Quinn's senses were in overdrive as her innate desire to survive took over her every thought. She was the first to reach the weapons so she safely secured a belt of knives around her waist and swung a quiver of arrows over her left shoulder. As Katniss approached the Victor from 5 tossed her the other bow and the duo pulled back an arrow ready to shoot as Finnick appeared in front of them.

"Good thing we're allies right?" He smirked as he held up his wrist to show Katniss a gold bracelet.

"Where'd you get that?" Katniss asked monotonously.

"Where do you think? Don't trust one and two. I'll go find Peeta." Finnick flinched as Quinn's arrow grazed his cheek as it sailed into another victor's eye. The cannon sounded as he slowly turned to stare at the archer, wide eyed. She would be lying if she said that she didn't consider sending her arrow slightly to the left.

"You could have killed me." Finnick gasped slightly, with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh please. If I was going to kill you then you'd be dead." Quinn rolled her eyes as she turned away from him. "If you two want to survive then I suggest we get out of here because if anyone else comes I won't hesitate to shoot you in the leg and leave."

She waltzed away nonchalantly as her companions glanced at each other and grinned; despite her best efforts they found it hard to dislike the girl from 5. Quinn studied the water, trying to locate Peeta whilst Katniss shot at the encroaching careers. The world seemed to be in fast forward and showed no signs of slowing. She could feel her concentration wavering as she struggled against the monster inside her head; the bars of its cage were bending to its will as it screamed for freedom. The beast had no sense of loyalty, no moral understanding and certainly no patience. It was out for blood, craving the rush of the kill and the thrill of the chase and Quinn fought hard against it within the tempest of her mind.

"He's over there." A voice murmured in her ear, bringing her back to reality, before its owner received a swift elbow to the gut for standing too close. She watched as Finnick recovered, handed her his trident with a grin and swam over to help their ally who was thrashing about in the water with another tribute. Katniss raised her bow but was surprised as Quinn placed a hand on the arrow with an unreadable expression. The girl from 12 had learned in the short time that she had known her that she rarely did anything without a bigger plan; Quinn Larkin was cool and calculated and almost impossible to read.

The canon sounded as all three tributes were out of sight in the depths of the water. The victor from 5 unconsciously gripped the trident tighter, feeling the cool metal burn her skin. The world finally seemed to slow as the ripples on the water calmed. Time seemed to stand still until finally two emerged from the water; Peeta and Finnick. Quinn released a breath that she hadn't known she was holding and her grip loosened. She was teetering on a tight rope at the edge of insanity, every nerve and every muscle in her body urged her to kill _everyone._ It was true that she could end the games within the next few days, exit as a winner and then have her revenge on Snow and it was also true that she could do that without the need for allies. The battle for control that continued in her mind was momentarily shut off as she studied the careers who stood within a hundred feet of her, they were plotting.

Soon the band of mismatched allies were making their way through the trees. Quinn traipsed at the rear of the group like she was out for a walk rather than in a fight between life and death. The arena felt like a greenhouse on a hot summer's day and the beads of sweat that trickled down her forehead irritated her. She was in a world of her own as she stared heavily at the mud beneath her feet until she mindlessly walked into Finnick who had stopped with the rest of the group. The rude awakening to reality knocked her off balance and she muttered an apology as she steadied herself. Glancing around the group it was obvious that the heat was affecting them too; they needed water. As the group of unlikely allies sat on the forest floor, Finnick noticed the absent look in the Ice Queen's eyes and knew there was a storm brewing inside; her icy blue eyes were vacant but held a strong glare that could shake the ground beneath their feet and her jawline was set. In the years that he had known the young woman, he had always studied her with intrigue and he had come to realise the meaning behind every expression that crossed her pretty little face and the one that he was looking at wasn't a good sign.

"Guess we're not holding hands anymore." Finnick sniggered as the cannon sounded. Quinn glanced up from the ground to look at him briefly before turning her gaze to the canopy of trees that sheltered them from the sweltering sun.

"You think that's funny?" Katniss challenged causing her to roll her eyes with a bored expression.

"It's hilarious." Quinn emphasised and as she rolled her gaze to Katniss all eyes turned to her. "Why should we care if they kill each other? We might be allies but you and I both know that the second we turn our back on you, you wouldn't hesitate. So yeah, the cannon is music to our ears."

"What she said." Finnick smirked. Quinn returned to the storm within her mind as the pair argued.

The fragility of humanity was a concept that was all too real for a victor; a little too close to home. They had been promised the chance to live in peace yet found themselves struggling against their mortality like a gladiator in the colosseum. Being back in the arena brought back the faces that lived in Quinn's mind. The look in their eyes as she took their life and watched as their soul dimmed from their body. The feeling of their blood oozing over her pale hands and spurting across her delicate face. It haunted her and the images had rooted themselves into the deepest and darkest corners of her mind, remaining there until activated. In that moment they grew stronger, doubling in size like a tumour as they infested her every thought. Quinn was traumatised all those years ago and she remained traumatised to that very moment. A child should never have to take a life and the life of the child that lived in her head grew darker with every memory. The demons that she was well acquainted with thrived in the torment of her mind. It was as if she was stuck in a maze; every turn was a dead end and as time grew weary and the sky grew darker, the hedges grew taller. Demons don't discriminate between heroes and villains, the brave and the cowardly and in that moment they festered within her. Her body ached as they spread through her veins and curdled her blood. She watched, eyes wide in terror, as the lifeless faces of her victims sawed through her tightrope and as a single thread remained, allowing her to stand on the side of sanity, light became a stranger and she regressed to the life of a killer; the life of a Hunger Games Victor.

She remained silent as she was gently pulled to her feet. Remained numb as she was guided through the trees. Remained lost as she battled internally. She screamed within her mind, vying to be heard but it fell on deaf ears. No one could see through the silent stoic expression and the icy exterior that she had spent years creating; her disguise was perfect but Quinn knew that spidery cracks were beginning to appear on her concrete mask. No one could see through her but the person that she pushed away the most.

Quinn could never have prepared herself for this, never have predicted the turmoil. She would never have been prepared to break. The gentle hand that guided her disappeared as Peeta hit the force-field and Katniss fell apart. She couldn't understand the slight feeling of loss that tugged at her heart as she stood over the boy who seemed to understand her in a way that no one else did. She watched on like the Grim Reaper, watching as the life drained from the boy who wanted to be her friend until a voice roughly pulled her out of her head.

"Quinn! Help me!"

It was strange how the prospect of loss could move a person, force them to forget everything and act in a last attempt to defy death. The girl had been a prisoner to her own mind but in that moment the boy that she reluctantly cared for needed her. He needed the survivor, the girl who always knew what to do. He needed the Quinn that he introduced himself to at the tribute parade not the Quinn who had manifested after her first kill of the Quarter Quell and that prospect of loss was what forced her to appear.

Finnick noticed as her expression changed to one of determination and sighed in relief as she nudged him out of the way and took over the compressions.

"Don't you dare die on us, Peeta." She urged through gritted teeth as her fists pumped his chest. "Don't give them what they want."

The air hung heavily as the tributes held onto the last tether of hope. They could almost hear Katniss' heart breaking. They could almost see the gamemakers hovering over the cannon, praying that they could use it. They could almost hear the laugh of delight that danced on President Snow's lips as he watched the Mockingjay break into tiny little pieces.

And they most definitely felt defeat until they most definitely heard the sharp gasp of air that entered the boy's lungs.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

"Be careful there's a force field out there." Peeta laughed through laboured breaths as Katniss kissed him and wiped her tears.

Seeing that he was alright, Quinn moved to help Mags to her feet before she surveyed the area. She looked at the pair from District 12 as they hugged and kissed each other and after a moment or two she rolled her eyes.

"Come on. We need to keep moving. Find water or something." She huffed impatiently, only to be nudged in the ribs by Finnick. "What?" She whispered to him as she shrugged her shoulders.

He looked at her, amused at her lack of consideration for the two lovebirds. His eyes lingered on her as she stared at the two and huffed again before returning her icy gaze back to his smirk of amusement.

"Shut up." She muttered and wandered off ahead of the group. Her mind wandered to her previous actions. Quinn was getting soft; she had purposely saved another tribute's life on national television and it didn't benefit her in the slightest. She rolled her eyes as her mind battled with her heart and her humanity battled with her demons. The internal battles were something Quinn had grown used to but being in such a close situation with a group of people she was expected to help, intensified them greatly.

The victor from 5 soon stopped and stood with her hands on her hips waiting until her allies caught up with her. She elected to walk at the rear of the group as Katniss took the front and threw nuts at the force field to prevent another electrocution. She looked around her, almost appreciating the quiet forest but it was far too hot. Sweat beaded on her forehead and matted her dirty blonde hair, her body suit clung too tight making her claustrophobic as she traipsed behind Finnick who was guiding Mags. Boredom soon became a friend of Quinn's; she was in The Hunger Games and she had barely killed a soul, in fact all she had done was follow Katniss like a sheep, a spare part and it was getting on her every last nerve. So when the girl from 12 told the group to wait, she received a sarcastic salute from her ally who thumped herself down onto the ground. Electing to ignore the girl, Katniss climbed up the nearest tree to examine the force field and look for a source of water.

Quinn sat ripping the leaves off of a stick as Mags sat down beside her. She raised her eyebrows in shock as the old woman wrapped her hands around one of her grazed ones and smiled gently. The girl was irritable beyond explanation but she never ripped her hand away and even surprised herself by smiling softly in return.

"How we doing, cranky?" Finnick grinned as he sat across from the butt of his joke, ensuring that he was out with slapping distance.

"I will kill you." Quinn muttered in return as she threw a stick at him and bit the inside of her cheeks as she fought a smile and looked away from his eyes, in fear that she might blush. _So much for staying away from him_. She went back to plucking leaves from the ground, occasionally running a hand through her hair to push the strays away. She felt the stares of both District 4 victors but chose to ignore them for another minute or two. Her thoughts wandered to Johanna, if she knew the woman half as well as she thought she did then she knew that she was still alive out there and a part of her secretly hoped that they would run into one another soon; she missed the company of people that didn't expect her to care, didn't expect humanity. Quinn knew that the victor who sat in front of her accepted her any way that she wished to present herself but she still felt a strong pressure to be a good person for him and as for Katniss, Quinn was 100% sure that judgemental was her middle name and there was never any doubt in her mind that Peeta was too good for this world. She sighed: "What's her highness doing anyway?" as she stood, frowning slightly as she realised that she had subconsciously helped Mags to her feet. _She was definitely going soft._

"The force field, it's a dome, we're at the edge of the arena." Katniss spoke as she finally re-emerged, "I couldn't find any signs of fresh water." She signed defeated as she pulled her hand through the top of her hair. Quinn watched as disappointment ran across the faces of Peeta and Mags.

"It's gonna get dark soon, we'll be safe if our backs are protected." Finnick spoke up drawing the group's attention, "We should set up camp, take turns sleeping. I can take first watch."

Katniss scoffed as she answered: "Not a chance."

Quinn rolled her eyes as she listened to the pair argue before she stepped in, "I agree with Finnick. If we were going to kill you then we would have done it but if it makes you feel better, then we'll guard in pairs." She spoke, as all eyes turned to her, before she addressed Katniss and Peeta, "Whoever's on watch out of you two will guard with either Finnick or I. That way we'll all have at least one person watching our backs."

Shocked at the young woman's sudden leadership, Katniss nodded in agreement and sat down. Quinn moved to sit with her back against the tree and after Finnick had made space for Mags to sleep, he sat down beside her.

"You know it makes me all tingly when you stand up for me." He smirked causing the girl to raise an eyebrow at him. "Seriously though, does this now mean that we're a team?"

The victor from District 5 thought about her answer for a moment before answering. Katniss and Peeta were both unaware of the rebellion so she knew in her heart that they would ultimately protect each other and wouldn't hesitate to kill her. She remembered the conversation that she had with Katniss, the night before the games; the girl wanted Quinn to help her protect Peeta and if for some reason the plan for escape fell through then she would kill her to save her "husband". Quinn Larkin knew in her heart that she had already intended to protect Finnick and she truly believed that his intentions were to protect her too.

"You were right you know." She whispered as she turned to look at him, "at the parade. I didn't jump at the chance to kill you." She sighed, "in fact, I think you're probably the only one I wouldn't consider killing."

Finnick's dimples deepened as he smiled at the ground, "I always knew." Was all he said before the duo descended into silence, both contemplating the double meaning. "She's a difficult ally." His voice eventually broke through the silence, "They're going to try and leave us eventually."

"Then we don't turn our backs to her. Don't give her a clear shot."

As she calculated her chances of getting out alive, Quinn knew that it would take a miracle and it (ironically) killed her. She thought about her life, how she had been transformed by the games – pulled in every direction and moulded by The Capitol – and she began to realise the time she had wasted. Having lost everything due to her stubborn nature, she had become cold hearted and spent so many years pushing away happiness; she now had nothing to live for and that made her reckless. As she sat with her head leaning back against the tree, a thought infected her mind. Quinn Larkin had truly believed that by isolating herself she had beaten Snow when all along he was still winning, still controlling her life and relishing in her loneliness, in her foolishness. She had wasted so much time and energy trying to win a never ending battle with Snow that she had let him mould her, let him change her and worst of all, let him take everything from her. Outside the games, Quinn had nothing; she had been so caught up in the war that she had unintentionally handed President Snow her future, her happiness and her humanity. She foolishly thought that by becoming the Ice Queen she had won when in reality she was the biggest loser of them all.

The victor from District 4 watched her intently, he knew that she was in a world of her own and would never let him in but as her ice blue eyes clouded with tears that she furiously blinked back and her jaw tensed in an attempt to hold back a sob, he didn't give her an option.

Quinn tensed as she was pulled into an embrace, it had been so long since she had been close to anyone and she strongly considered punching the boy but as the storm that destroyed her mind seemed to ease, she wrapped her arms around his torso and allowed herself a brief moment of comfort. Finnick smiled softly at the gesture as he rested his head on top of hers. The young woman would never give The Capitol the satisfaction of seeing her cry and although she may have just revealed the contents of her heart, for once she was truly carefree. She allowed her eyes to close briefly, allowed herself another moment of serenity before she inevitably pushed him away.

As their grip on each other loosened slightly, Quinn yawned.

"You should sleep." Finnick whispered through the darkness.

"Nightmares." was the only response he received. They remained there for another minute or two, until Quinn stood up and made her way over to stand guard with Katniss.

The two girls sat in the quiet serene of the forest that held them captive. As much as it pained Quinn to admit, she was visibly more relaxed knowing that Finnick had her back; she was used to fighting her way through life on her own but in her current situation someone else had the upper hand. The plan was to rescue Katniss and she was expected to give her life, if the circumstance should arise. The Ice Queen for The Girl on Fire – and if she was being honest, she was starting to realise that she hadn't secured her freedom by figuratively signing on the dotted line.

The victors looked to the sky as the anthem played and the faces of the fallen tributes lit up the arena. Quinn stared up emotionless as she felt Finnick sit down beside her.

"Eight." Katniss spoke as the other two nodded softly. A soft whistling that almost sounded like a lonely bird song interrupted the silence. The victors watched as a silver tin on a tiny white parachute floated down and landed in Katniss' hand. The strange contraption was accompanied by a note that simply said _drink up_.

"What is it?" Finnick asked.

"It's from Haymitch. I think it's a spile."

Quinn remained where she was as the Mockingjay hammered the device into the nearest tree as Finnick and Peeta surrounded her. They all laughed in joy as water poured out, all taking turns to drink; the girl from 5 smiled slightly at their happiness before standing and making her way over.

After everyone had cleaned their faces and had enough to drink, they resumed their positions. Quinn rested her chin on her knees, fighting a migraine as sleep tried to take over. However, the second her eyes drooped, they snapped open as a gonging sound erupted through the arena. She unconsciously counted them – twelve.

"Midnight?" Finnick asked no one in particular.

"Or the number of districts." Katniss suggested.

The night sky was suddenly illuminated by brilliant blue forked lightening and the trio watched as it struck the tallest tree. Quinn's eyes wandered to the man beside her, watching as the dark rings under his eyes disappeared as his green iris' brightened with every flash of lightening; feeling her stare, he pulled his eyes away to look at her only to smirk as she turned away.

"Well, if you're not going to get some sleep I will." He whispered to her before he grazed her arm with his hand and stood up.

As time ticked on, Quinn's heart won over her head as sleep began to infest the darkest corners of her mind. It took every ounce of her depleted energy to fight its darkness, to find light in the depths of her mind as the monsters that revelled in her dreams came out to play. Her eyes lingered on Peeta as she blinked fatigue away, he had already had it rough and as she watched the sweat roll down his nose as he slept she noticed the innocence that blanketed him, that survived in a world filled with terror. She quietly envied the boy knowing that the innocence she lost so long ago would never return but she vowed that she would avenge it the day she sent an arrow through the ice cold stare of President Snow.

As Katniss jolted awake, Quinn's gaze was drawn to her: "Oh would you look at that; I didn't slit your throat as you slept." she smirked. The girl from 5 raised her eyebrows in shock as the Everdeen girl started smiled and started laughing. The sound was so alien that Quinn couldn't help but smile and shake her head as she stood up and stretched.

Her joints cracked under the pressure of her movements and her muscles ached with fatigue. Her delicate face gleamed with a varnish of sweat and droplets raced each other from her chin to her chest. Suddenly a hand grabbed her arm, its owner vying for her attention. She followed the girl's pointing and squinted as her blue eyes landed on a thick white fog that crept towards them. Katniss instinctively reached her hand out and Quinn watched as it blistered in white pustules causing the girl to scream in pain. The other members of the group woke as the girls shouted for them to run.

Being the fastest runner, Quinn easily overtook the group and ran through the jungle as thorns and stray branches tore at her legs through her bodysuit. Her feet slipped on the wet leaves as she changed direction to avoid the looming poison. The breeze whipped at her hair as her heart told her to wait and her head told her to run for her life. She battled with herself but eventually stopped in time to see Peeta picking Katniss up off the ground; uncharacteristically she ran back towards them and as Peeta's leg caught on the twigs and the pain of the blisters seared his body, she picked him up off of the ground. Quinn kept a tight grip on the stumbling boy, refusing to let him fall until she heard a scream.

Not ten feet away, Finnick – who was carrying Mags – had fallen, his screams echoing in the air and Quinn hesitated. She continued to run with the victors for District 12, a crutch to the injured boy until Finnick screamed again and she instinctively and unapologetically let go of Peeta, forgetting the rebellion, forgetting her depleting chances of survival. Her feet swiftly jumped over the fallen logs and twisted thorns as she tore her way to the District 4 victors. District 12 for District 4. _Peeta for Finnick._

Within seconds she had reached them and pulled Finnick to his feet as blisters covered every inch of his exposed skin. Within seconds she helped Mags onto her district partner's back and within seconds they were reunited with the victors from 12.

Quinn's action did however have consequences. Peeta inevitably fell without her and was so badly burned that he couldn't walk. Katniss whimpered as she realised that she couldn't take his weight and as the group quickly searched for a solution, Mags reached one first. The old lady smiled apologetically at the two victors who had taken care of her previously before she kissed Finnick. Quinn frowned in confusion as Mags placed a hand on her cheek and nodded gently before letting go and running into the fog. For a minute the world stood still. Quinn was frozen to her spot as Finnick shouted for the woman who was like a mother to him. She blinked back tears as Katniss tried to stop him from running after her and as the cannon went off she decided that it was all her fault. Katniss' pleas fell on deaf ears until she shook the shoulders of the other girl. As Quinn snapped back to the arena from the confinements of her head she saw the look of need in Katniss' eyes and she knew that she needed to become a leader – transform from the sheep to the Shepard.

Her hands clasped the distraught victor's face, forcing his tearful green eyes to meet her now commanding blue ones. "Finnick. We have to go." She whispered as she wiped a tear from his cheek as the poisonous fog drew nearer and after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. "Katniss, find a clear path, we'll follow you! I have Peeta." She decreed as the group finally sprang into action.

The fog burned at her legs and the back of her neck as she hissed in pain, clenching her teeth to prevent a scream. Her will power pushed her through as she helped Finnick carry a near unconscious Peeta. Quinn had finally begun to live up to her potential.

As the group followed The Girl of Fire, they tumbled down a hill and came to a halt. Quinn watched as the fog appeared to hit an invisible wall above them. She shook as the adrenaline rushed through her veins in an attempt to keep her conscious. She hissed as the pustules mixed with the cuts she had received on her tumble down the hill and she jumped as Katniss cried out in pain.

"The water! The water helps." She shouted as her pain subsided, causing Peeta to crawl into the water with her.

Seeing that Finnick had made no attempt to move, Quinn decided that she could wait and mustered up enough energy to move towards his shaking body. Her body trembled and burned in pain as she wrapped her arms around him, half lifting and half dragging him into the water. He yelled out in pain as she submerged him and she fought screams of her own as her blisters cleared under the touch of the water. Her pain soon faded alongside Finnick's screams and as she washed water over his face and neck, he finally had the energy to sit up.

"Thank you." He spoke gently as he squeezed her hand.

"I'm sorry about Mags" Katniss spoke as she watched the pair, intrigued.

Quinn watched as Finnick tried to hold himself together as his heart shattered into tiny pieces. She stared at him blankly as he swallowed the lump in his throat and she frowned as he spoke the truth that he had protected himself from since the beginning of the games. The truth that she thought was blatantly obvious to everyone around them. The truth that she used against him in the training centre.

"She was never going to make it."


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

As time dragged by slowly, the group rested and tended to their wounds whilst Peeta collected some fresh water from a nearby tree. Quinn watched as the tranquillity of the water rolled over her hands, entranced by the reflections that danced across its surface; the relaxing nature of the atmosphere contradicted their situation. A paradox. For the first time in a long time, the victor felt at peace within herself and she even allowed a small smile to slide onto her features as she met Finnick's emerald gaze. The breeze weaved its way around them, playfully tugging at them as it danced in harmony. The soft rustling of the leaves was music to their ears as they harmonised with the odd bird song that whispered, riding on the breeze through the arena. The water continued to tease at her blistered hands, washing away any trace of her previous pain – Quinn liked to think of it in a metaphorical sense - she felt safe, as ironic as that might be and as she looked over at the victor beside her, the man who had promised to protect her, she felt a sliver of happiness. _Hope_.

In Snow's world, hope was something that required crushing and so soon after she stood to stretch her limbs, Quinn felt a tug on her waist and as she turned to question the source, she noticed the hundreds of yellow eyes watching her with caution. Mutts. As Katniss called to Peeta, the district 5 victor tightened her grip around one of the machetes she had, deciding that she would use that instead of her bow.

Time slowed until the district 12 boy caused the monkeys to spring into attack mode and all hell broke loose. Quinn and Finnick stood back to back, stabbing the oncoming mutations in perfect synchronisation. The victor from 4 wrapped a hand around her arm in an attempt to keep her close to him but as she witnessed one of the oversized baboons launching itself at Peeta and she moved to protect him, her arm slipped out of his grasp. Her fingertips brushed his as they were pulled from each other in the midst of the fight, both snatched from the group and surrounded by gnawing teeth and murderous eyes. Escape seemed a distant illusion as the mutts towered over the girl from 5 and so entering autopilot, Quinn lunged forward driving her machete into the skull of the nearest mutt, rejoicing as it's genetically enhanced blood splattered onto the hilt of her blade. As more and more of the monkeys attacked, squashing every ounce of daylight from their tiny circle, the young woman fought for her life. Finnick's shouts sounded through the arena telling her to run but she held her ground; feet apart and knees slightly bent. The 75th Hunger Games had lacked the blood and the gore that she had prepared for and as the darkness of her mind, the innate beast, struggled for release she gave into the demons that frequented her head, gave into the bloodlust and in doing so left her humanity at the door.

In one swift movement she decapitated one of the beasts before turning on her heel and thrusting her blade through the throat of the one behind her; arterial blood showered her as more teeth snapped at her. Blinking the mutated blood out of her eyes she reached, stabbing the monkey that soared towards her from a nearby tree. Her blonde hair ran red as she threw the body off of her machete and propelled the blade into the mutt on her right. The young woman was so agile, it looked as if she were dancing; every movement appeared well rehearsed, every spin with perfect balance, every thrust with the right amount of force. Quinn had resorted back to her animalistic nature and the beast that taunted her every thought maintained complete control as her laugh reverberated through the trees. She had no desire to stop, no desire to run like the rest of her allies, no desire live past that moment. Quinn snarled as the pent up fury bubbled to the surface, boiling her blood and painting her cheeks as red as the blood that flew through the air with every strike. Her teeth chattered with adrenaline as her limbs grew weary and more and more Capitol bred monkeys attacked her.

A fleeting thought that perhaps she had started something that she could not hope to finish shattered against her skull but she refused to give in, refused to cease the killing as if by hurting them she was hurting Snow. She trembled in pain as sharpened teeth penetrated her flesh, biting back a scream as she gouged the assailants. The blood that seeped from her wounds mingled with that of her victims, reminding her of those past and present; sweat ran down from her bloodied hairline, painting white streaks on her crimson mask. Every blink sent a shower of blood and every stab had a meaning; one for her, one for her mother, one for her father and one for each of her siblings; every slice of the machete against flesh was a silent retribution. Every decapitated head was cry in anger, a cry for everything the girl had ever lost, a cry for the life she had wasted living alone. A cry in frustration at her fear. Because it was true, Quinn Larkin had spent so long bound by the fear that she would lose it all, that she had forgotten to live and so she remained there, surrounded by mutts as they bit her and scratched her and she fought for the life that she threw away, fought for the life that she was too terrified to live.

* * *

The tributes from District 12 watched as the body of the Morphling, who gave her life for the boy, was swept up by the Heli-carrier. To them, the notion that someone would give their life for them was incomprehensible and it left them completely in awe. Simultaneously, their gazes landed on their ally who paced back and forth as he pulled at his hair in stress.

"I need to go back for her." He spoke urgently, as he grabbed his trident and started his way back into the jungle only to be stopped by Katniss.

"You can't. You'll die." Finnick scoffed at her remark, shaking his head as he bit the inside of his cheek. The truth was that he didn't care, he didn't care that it was a suicide mission and he didn't care that he was breaking his promise to Haymitch. All that he cared about in that moment was the girl that he didn't think he could live without. From the moment he met her in the Capitol on her victory tour, he had been enthralled by her, enchanted and although she had claimed to hate everything he stood for, he wanted nothing more than to be beside her. Nothing more than to annoy her so she would speak to him and he could watch as a frown etched itself across her brow, tease her so that she would nudge him away and tense her jaw. Finnick Odair had Quinn Larkin memorised, he knew her by heart – all her quips and idiosyncrasies, all her expressions and every little dust particle on every brick that formed the high walls built around her battered heart. No, the boy from 4 didn't care that she maintained that she had always hated him or that she used all her might to push him away because he loved her enough for both of them. And so in that moment, he would risk his life because he didn't care about anything other than her.

Without hesitating the Baker's son stood, grabbed his weapon and stood beside Finnick. He had always been rather fond of The Ice Queen, despite her efforts to push him away, and so he needed no persuasion. Finnick smiled at the gesture as the boys prepared themselves for the fight. Katniss watched tentatively before she sighed audibly, rose to her feet and joined her allies as they planned their rescue.

* * *

Every muscle in Quinn's body burned as the Gamemakers sent in more and more beasts with the hope of overpowering her. She was pushed and shoved and bitten from every direction. The remainder of her energy evaporated from her pores, like a poisonous gas it threatened to kill her and she was helpless. Hot, sticky blood ran down her wielding arm as another set of teeth perforated her skin. Slowly it trickled down like raindrops racing down a window on a cool autumn day. Slowly, it reached the hilt of her machete as she fought like she had never fought before and slowly, the machete slipped from her hand. Panic relished in her ice blue eyes as her fingers extended further than humanly possible, grasping at the falling blade; grasping at her fragile life. Her scarlet hair whipped her face, tingling every nerve, clutching at her eyelashes and the machete tumbled freely, catching the sunlight and aiming it straight for the ice that resided in her soul. There was nothing she could do as the seconds felt like days and she watched as her lifeline landed softly against the leaves that coated the dirt blanket.

The air was pushed out of her lungs as she landed mere inches from the blade. Her wounds screaming in agony, her muscles too fatigued to move. They say your life flashes before your eyes but as the mutations crushed her tiny body, each fighting to tear at her flesh, Quinn Larkin saw nothing but regret as she reached with one last act of defiance, one last chance to grab the bloodied machete. One last chance to live.

* * *

Time seemed to stand still for the remaining trio of the alliance as they stopped dead in their tracks at the edge of the jungle, their ears hammering to rhythm of their heartbeats; frozen in time as a cannon sounded throughout the arena and another tribute exhaled the last breath of air that would ever grace their lungs.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Thank you to lunersheza, Audrey and Guest for their reviews! I hope you like this chapter! It is a little on the short side but I will have a longer update soon._

 **Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

As the boom of the cannon erupted through the arena the immense pressure on her body appeared to lift and she saw a light. It burned through the darkness that surrounded her soul and she felt at peace. An odd sense of euphoria attached itself to the monsters that snarled in the deepest and darkest crevices that hid in the depths of her being; it fought them for control, cornering them as they had done to her only moments ago. Time was not in existence as she felt the pain ebb away; a numbing sensation washed over her like waves at the tip of the shoreline. She was no longer tormented by her mistakes, no longer erratic with rage. In that moment nothing in the world mattered anymore as the light grew brighter and brighter, as it illuminated every inch of her broken and bloodied body. She needn't worry anymore.

In the moments before her relief, humanity had become a stranger; the tightrope that had swung back and forth between insanity and sanity, threatening to toss her, had snapped. Her demons surrounded her like spectators cackling as she played the gladiator, drowning in a sea of the monkeys who played her starved lions. However, one could argue that the roles were in fact reversed as the victor from five gave into the blood starved beast behind her mask, craving to feel the blood between her fingers. But Quinn needn't worry as it all floated away.

* * *

Unrequited love is torture; one that mauls the heart, assaults the soul and teases the mind. Unrequited love breeds hope and hope is the deadliest disease in existence. Finnick Odair knew this all too well for he had fallen hopelessly in love with the only girl who pushed him away, fallen head over heels for the girl whose heart was chained in impenetrable gold. The young man from District 4 had survived in the torment of unrequited love since the day he had met the beautiful blonde hiding behind one of The Capitol's expensive drapes during her victory celebrations. That day was etched into his mind for that was the day that he memorised the girl from District 5, the day his heart filled with an emotion that had always been a mystery to him, the day he felt the butterflies somersaulting around his stomach, the day that he stopped looking at the thousands of women that fawned over him. That day, was the day that time became his obsession; how many days until he could glimpse at her again, how many minutes until she told him to get lost, how many seconds until he fell deeper. He had always refused to believe that Quinn hated him, may it be foolishness or the simple notion that the repressed smile and the glint in her ice blue eyes betrayed her whenever she looked at him.

Finnick Odair knew Quinn Larkin and he knew that behind her façade she wasn't fearless, she wasn't heartless and she certainly wasn't inhuman. He knew that she forced herself to be alone through the fear of losing more and he knew that she cared a lot more than she let on. However, more than anything Finnick knew that Quinn was one of the strongest people that he had ever met; he knew that she was a survivor – or at least he thought he did.

Loss is a strange thing, inevitable in their situation and yet still unexpected. The first stage of grieving is denial; the mind runs into overdrive convincing itself that there has been a mistake, the bearer of bad news is wrong, it was someone else, there was no body. Finnick's mind played through all of the possibilities as his knees gave in under the weight of his shattered heart and he collided with the hot sand that held him in his place. There were too many unknowns and so he clawed at every centimetre of denial that his mind would allow him. The second stage is anger and as it bubbled in the pit of his stomach, his temperature rose and he saw red. Anger made friends with denial in the confines of his soul as the pent up rage forced him to his feet. _If Katniss hadn't stopped him, he could have saved her._ An uncontrollable wrath grew as he roared in pain and his fist collided with nearest tree. In the space of a day, the victor from four had lost the woman who treated him as if he were her own and the girl that would never know how he felt and as that thought tormented him to no end, Finnick Odair lost his will to fight. Time was no longer an obsession for every second he had to endure knowing that he had missed his chance at happiness – his chance to cure the demons that froze The Ice Queen – was a curse.

Katniss and Peeta watched their friend in concern as tears cascaded down his cheeks unnoticed. They watched as the fresh blood from his knuckles trickled down his fingertips as they gently grazed Quinn's bow with all the affection that he wished he had shown her. They watched as he fell apart and their hearts ached for him. The victors from twelve held onto the hope that she was still out there, the hope that the cannon wasn't for the girl that they had grown to care for; there were too many confounding variables…too many maybes and so they nurtured that hope until it was strong enough to compensate for the hopelessness that consumed the once strong victor who was physically in front of them as he retreated into himself.

He stared at the sand through the tears that clouded his vision as the pain in his chest masked the sting of the salt water on his red fist. His mind had finally settled to a numb nothingness and he wished that he could be angry instead, anything was better than the gaping black hole that now consumed him. The emptiness wouldn't allow him to move as the leaves of the bushes rustled with an incoming force. His allies scuffed the ground as they gripped their weapons but his head was too heavy on his shoulders, disabling him. Twigs crackled and creaked as they ground against the stones that littered the jungle floor. The leaves continued to shake in fear of the sight before them and the sand began to shift uncomfortably. Silence finally overcame the scene as time seemed to slow to a manageable stroll until a soft gasp broke through. A burst of energy shocked Finnick into action and he lifted his head, almost afraid to look.

Time stopped and his chest hurt. Her porcelain skin and blonde curls were invisible under the coating of scarlet and her small limbs were halved by the bite marks that bruised every visible surface but he would know the ice blue eyes with flecks of silver anywhere. Time remained at a standstill as he observed her trembling hands and knees. He took in every threadbare patch and every rip of her jumpsuit that coated a deep gash across her torso. Time ceased as he studied the expression on her face; the creases that pained her forehead, the fear in her eyes and the tremble of her slightly parted lips. His mouth gaped slightly as he comprehended the girl in front of him.

Time came to a slow start as the machete in her hand fell to the ground and he moved in a way that felt agonisingly slow as he reached her in time to catch her as she fell. His strong arms cradled her blood stained body as he lowered them onto the sandy blanket beneath them. Blood gushed from the uncountable amount of bite marks as he grimaced at the sight; each tooth impression was visible, making her skin look like modelling clay. Her fearful eyes met his as she trembled from shock and he held her closer to him in the fear that he would lose her if he should let go.

Finnick knew in that moment that he would sacrifice everything before he would lose her and as he held her tight, his mind screamed the words that he was too terrified to say out loud, the words that choked him as they glued themselves to the tip of his tongue. As he nested his face in her blood red hair, his mind screamed the words that he knew that she wasn't ready to hear but those words, when spoken, would be the truest words that had ever graced his lips:

 _I love you._


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

The whirring of a little silver parachute, had Peeta running to retrieve its contents with the hope of saving his friend. His hands shook uncontrollably as he struggled to pry open the lid but as his eyes darted back to a fitting Quinn and a distraught Finnick, he felt a pair of hands pull the sponsored item from him. Katniss had always been good at hiding her emotions and so the boy from 12 had no idea how she was feeling in that moment but he was grateful for her serenity.

Placing the note addressed to the girl lying in Finnick's arms, Katniss slowly removed what looked to be an ointment and assumed that it was to be applied to the hundreds of bite marks that littered the girl's limbs. If the girl from 12 knew anything it was the excruciating pain that they were about to put her ally through. She handed the tub to Peeta before ripping one of Quinn's sleeves off.

"What are you doing?" Finnick asked in shock as the Everdeen girl shoved the sleeve into a semi-conscious Quinn's mouth.

"Help me hold her down."

Peeta's face faltered as he bit the inside of his cheek and approached the girl. As soon as the ointment made contact with her bloodied and battered skin, consciousness slammed into her broken body, causing her to jolt forward against the restraints of her allies. A muffled scream escaped her gagged mouth and tears began to pool on her cheeks as she thrashed her head from side to side and the ointment turned to foam, bubbling in the depths of the mutt bites. The boy from 12's eyes began to water in sorrow as he muttered apologies as if they would ease the agony he was inflicting. Katniss and Finnick closed their eyes and grimaced as they held her to the floor with all their might as she continued to struggle.

The veins in her head and her neck tried to force their way through the thin layers of skin that held them in place. Her heart pounded as every instinct in her body told her to fight; told her to avoid the pain. Her face grew red and her throat burned with every scream that bubbled out of her mouth and yet the pain only grew deeper, damaging her very core. Until, nothing.

* * *

Her eyes flew open as she gasped for air and shot up before groaning at her aching limbs. Glancing around, she realised that it was still light in the arena so calculated that she hadn't been out long.

"Hey...how are you feeling?" A soft voice spoke from beside her. Peeta.

"Like I've been hit by a train." She mumbled in response as her fingertips grazed over the rapidly healing bite marks that darted across her skin like freckles. Her brain shuddered as it remembered the pain before she had slipped into unconsciousness, it was something she would never forget.

"The ointment came with this note. It's for you." The boy from 12 spoke again, handing her a folded up note with her name scrawled messily on the front.

Frowning, she unfolded the slightly damp sheet of paper:

 _People need you more than you think. Pull something like that again and I will kill you myself_ _. Be strong, Bumble Bee._

\- _H._

Quinn rolled her eyes in response. She knew that she had been reckless and wouldn't bother to deny that it had been a suicide mission but as soon as her blue eyes landed on the final sentence, her heart felt heavy. _Be strong, Bumble Bee._ It was something that her father used to say to her before Snow got to him. A tear glided down her cheek as she remember him, remembered his sacrifice and a lump manifested in her throat as she remembered what Finnick had said to her when she had teased him about Mags:

 _"_ _I might take them up on the offer, after all everyone needs cannon fodder." Quinn spoke coldly before whispering, "But you would know about that wouldn't you?" And nodding towards Mags._

 _"_ _Is that what your family were?"_

The truth remained hidden from everyone but Haymitch who had been a friend of her father's. To Quinn her family weren't cannon fodder, their deaths were a constant reminder that she wasn't to be controlled, a reminder that her mistakes have consequences. Her mother's death had come as a complete shock to her, it had been a week since she had refused Snow's plans; a week since she had refused to sell her body. She could recall the day perfectly - it was a Tuesday afternoon, autumn and as she approached her house in the District 5 victors' village she pulled her scarf closer to her neck. Screams could be heard from two houses down, causing her to feet to run faster than her body and as she burst through the door, she was met with the sight that remained burned to the back of her eyelids to this day. In her nightmares she still saw her blood-soaked scarf and her tears that landed on the ever paling cheeks of her mother. Her mother was her fault and Quinn had grown to accept it but her father? He had sacrificed himself for his eldest daughter:

 _"_ _Quinn, promise me that you won't do this!" Jack Larkin pleaded with his daughter as he clutched her tiny hands in his._

 _"_ _I have to! I don't have a choice, he'll hurt you like he did mother..."_

 _"_ _Now you listen to me." Her father spoke authoritatively as he pulled her closer to him, bending down to meet her eyes. "If Snow wants me then he can have me. I've lived to see you blossom into a beautiful young woman and I will not live to see you broken by that man. Promise me, Quinny?"_

 _Quinn stared silently into her father's eyes, memorising his laughter lines and the blue eyes that matched her own before refusing to endanger him. She couldn't lose him too, she wouldn't. "I'm sorry, Daddy." she whispered before turning to leave the room._

 _"_ _Be strong Bumble Bee, no matter what."_

That was the last words she had heard fall from her father's ever-smiling lips. The last time that she saw him alive. _Be strong Bumble Bee._ It wasn't until she had reached The Capitol that Quinn had discovered that her father had sent a letter to President Snow for her, refusing his proposition once more. That was the final straw, it had broken her and prompting her to kill her client in a fit of anger; to resort to the animal she had become during her games. It had devastated her that anyone would care enough for her to sacrifice themselves and so it was that day that she built her walls high. The Ice Queen was forged by the death of her father and from that day on the young girl refused to let anyone close to her, refused to allow anyone to care for her to that extent.

The day she returned from The Capitol, she had enlisted the help of Johanna – the closest thing she could call to a friend under her knew façade – and used all of her remaining resources to protect the remainder of her family. They weren't cannon fodder, she didn't sacrifice them out of boorishness, she sent them to District 7 with new identities; she tried to hide them. As much as it hurt to lock her heart away, she knew that is was what was best for herself and anyone who knew her. Quinn was a curse, anyone who was stupid enough to get close ended up dead in her hallway. Her grandmother, her sister and both her brothers had fallen victim to her curse, despite her best attempts. They had remained hidden for a year, happy in their new lives regardless of the gaping hole that Quinn's absence had left. They worked hard in District 7, had friends and a future but as soon as Snow grew tired of the girl who refused him to no consequences, he decided to sweep the Districts in a final effort to find the remaining Larkins before opting to leave the insubordinate victor alone - _truly alone_.

A warm hand clasped hers bringing her back to reality as she wiped away the salted drops that painted streaks on her pale skin. She turned to Peeta with a forced smile but the look in his eye told her that she didn't need it - told her that she would never need to pretend to be anything she wasn't and so she let the smile slide off of her features allowing herself to muddle through her emotion silently. Tranquillity swept over her as she forgot her surroundings, forgot that she was in the arena. Peacefulness washed over her as she sat in the company of a **friend**.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

Quinn hadn't realised just how hungry she was until she bit into her portion of the fish that Finnick had caught. After barely inhaling it, she sat with her head back. It was quiet. _Too quiet._ Her senses flew into overdrive as the demons in her head taunted her. She was getting too comfortable. Unconsciously, she gripped her bow until her knuckles whitened and her eyes scanned the surroundings. Subconsciously, she jumped and her free hand darted to her knife as a hand covered hers. As her gaze caught Finnick's, she sighed in relief realising that the danger was simply a torment of her mind. She released her knife and softened the life-threatening grip on her silvery bow without removing her stare from his tanned face and dirty blonde curls. She surveyed him impassively as his brow creased slightly above his nose as his eyes sent her a silent message of concern. His gaze followed her as she rested her mouth on her free fist which was propped up by her knee.

"Get a room." She scoffed as Peeta handed Katniss a pearl, prompting the boy to kick her knee out from under her arm and grin as Finnick chuckled.

The moment of serenity was short lived as a scream ricocheted through the beach. Within a second, Quinn jumped to her feet and grabbed her bow, readying an arrow.

"That's new…" Peeta spoke as the group watched the trees at the opposite end of the beach. An almighty wave crashed through the jungle, bending the trees to their will as a cannon sang through the noise.

The victors watched, mouths gaped in shock as the water seemed to pile behind an invisible wall, remaining in that sector. They looked at each other with frowns of confusion until the Heli-carrier appeared to collect the drowned tribute and the barriers appeared to drop.

"Someone's here." Katniss warned as the water swam up the shoreline, danced with the sand and caressed their feet, stroking their ankles.

Quinn eyes matched the colour of the ocean as she watched the water lap at her feet. Her head snapped up as Finnick nudged her.

"Johanna." He muttered as her eyes followed his gaze. "Johanna!" He hollered, breaking into a jog as the pair made their way over to her.

"Finnick! Quinn!" The victor from 7 grinned as she pulled them both into a hug before nudging the blonde girl. "Should have guessed that Golden Boy would follow you like a puppy!"

A coy smile pushed its way through Quinn's smirk as she looked up at Finnick who wore his famous grin. "What happened to you?" The girl asked Johanna as she cleared her throat and looked the other victor up and down with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought the jungle would be the safest, once I got them out." She spoke, tilting her head in the direction of Beetee and Wiress. "That's when the rain started, I thought it was water but it turned out to be blood. Hot thick blood! It was choking us and we were stumbling around gagging on it blind." Quinn noticed the other woman's expression change to one of sorrow. "That's when Blight hit the force field…he wasn't much but he was from home."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not." Johanna smirked as she nudged the victor from 5. "Unless The Ice Queen is melting on me?"

Eventually, the incessant 'tick tock' spilling from Wiress began to play on every last nerve that the Larkin girl possessed. As she sighed through her nostrils and tensed her jaw, the young woman spun round to face the female victor from 3. By the twenty-fifth _tick tock_ , Quinn's temper flared.

"Can someone shut her up?"

"Play nice." Finnick whispered into her ear as he stood behind her. Quinn rolled her eyes with a scowl before elbowing him in the stomach, however he had expected it and tensed his abs, chuckling in victory.

Beetee, knowing the girl's reputation, jumped up and explained that his district partner was simply dehydrated. The constant _tick tock_ s continued ceaselessly as Wiress danced around the beach and grabbed onto Johanna, prompting the fiery brunette to push the older woman down onto the sand.

"Lay off her!" Katniss shouted as she stormed forward.

Quinn stood back and watched as the brunettes fought. Pushing and pulling at one another – in all honesty, Quinn thought that they looked pathetic. She lowered herself to sit on the warm sand as the men tried to pull them apart. A chuckle almost escaped her as Finnick threw Johanna into the ocean but she quickly caught it. Her eyes soon trailed to Beetee who appeared to be losing a lot of blood from his back.

"If you intend to live, you better get that seen to." She spoke as she raked through Peeta's things to grab the ointment that he had used on her. "Come here." The bespectacled man smiled and uttered his thanks, both confused and surprised by her actions. He winced in pain as Quinn pulled the back of his suit out of the stab wound and cleansed it with water.

"Thanks for the help back there by the way." Finnick spoke in feigned annoyance as he sat down beside her.

Quinn fought a smile as she applied the ointment to Beetee's wound, unflinching as her fingers grazed the peeled skin at either side of the puncture. "You looked pretty fine from here…"

"Aww, you're making me blush." The victor from 4 grinned, highlighting his dimples, before dodging a punch.

* * *

Wiress' _tick tock_ s hadn't been the ravings of a lunatic but the warnings of a genius. The arena was a clock. The other victors gathered around Peeta as he drew a circle on the black sand at the centre of the Cornucopia whilst Wiress sang Hickory Dickory Dock in a dreamy daze.

Quinn pictured the hand moving around the clock, each hour creating a new threat in the corresponding segment. She mentally kicked herself for not seeing it. Together, the victors managed to piece together 5 hours of the day: the lightening on the tallest tree followed by the blood rain, then the poisonous fog and the monkeys. The wave was at ten. As Johanna, Beetee, Katniss, Peeta and Finnick mused over the information, Quinn stopped. Wiress had stopped singing.

Instantly, she grabbed the knife that hung through a loop in her belt and spun around, launching the weapon like a spear. As it collided with Gloss' eye, an arrow flew past her ear and sunk deep into his chest; there was no time to mourn Wiress as her body painted the rocks with thick red blood that almost evaporated as it dripped onto the cool surface. The rest of the Careers soon attacked.

Nocking an arrow, Quinn steadied her footing before trying to get a shot on Brutus which proved impossible as he fought with Finnick. Johanna buried her axe into Cashmere's chest as Peeta dodged Brutus' spear and Katniss reloaded her bow.

 _BOOM._

 _BOOM._

 _BOOM._

The girl from 5's mind raced as the situation escalated, she couldn't find a shot and it began to frustrate her. Enobaria's knife slashed at Finnick, first his thigh and then his cheek. In defence, Quinn rushed forward sending her arrow through the arm of the female from District 2 as she slipped behind the shelter of the Cornucopia. Brutus darted after his District partner with Katniss hot on his trail as the ground began to shake underneath them.

Their shoes began to slip on the rocky surface as the Cornucopia began to spin. Unconsciously, Finnick reached out to Quinn pulling her towards him as they were tossed by the force and landed face down on the rocks that once lay beneath their feet. Quinn gritted her teeth as her fingertips gripped the rocks; her eyes widened as the Cornucopia spun faster and faster and her right hand slipped from its handle. Finnick clutched her left hand, holding her in place as the water twirled upwards with the force, spinning like a tornado.

"Fin!" Quinn shouted as she caught sight of Beetee who was slipping further and further from the centre of the tiny island. "He's going to fall!"

"I can't hold both of you!" The remaining victor from District 4 answered as he gripped her hand tighter.

Quinn's eyes widened as she realised his decision. "No! We need him! I'll be fine, trust me!"

Finnick hesitated for a moment, as Beetee fell towards him, before nodding: "I do!" and letting her go. Her fingertips grazed the rock whilst she tried to catch herself and Finnick secured Beetee to the rock beside him. It seemed as though the island increased in speed until she finally let go; bracing herself for the impact, she shut her eyes tightly only to open them as she felt her body jolt upwards.

"Sorry, I nearly dislocated your arm!" Peeta shouted with a strained smile as he gripped her arm and helped her climb up towards him, holding them in place with his right hand.

"Thanks - I was never really a fan of swimming!"

* * *

After reuniting, the group argued about which path to take into the jungle until Quinn huffed in annoyance and started walking, leaving the group to either follow her or stay there. It was clear that they all needed water as the jungle heat forced droplets of sweat to settle onto their brows.

"I'll go, it's my turn." Finnick volunteered as he adjusted the sleeve that he had tied around his thigh injury.

As Peeta offered to go with him and watch his back, Johanna piped up: "Katniss can go. We need you to make another map."

Quinn watched the suspicion cloud Katniss' expression as she surveyed the other victors: "If there was an ulterior motive, I would be going with him." She sighed pointing to Finnick in illustration as he nodded in agreement. The girl from 12 looked at Quinn in shock as if she had just read her mind. Katniss glanced between Quinn and Finnick as she considered the girl's comment before deciding that she would trust the duo, nodding and heading off. "Don't die." District 5's victor whispered as she tossed the curly hair man his trident.

A good ten minutes had passed and once their map was finished, Peeta and Quinn argued that the group should move to find Katniss and Finnick. It wasn't long until they caught a glimpse of them and Quinn's heart immediately leapt into throat. Her brow creased into a deep frown as she saw them lying on the floor and she assumed they were screaming yet she couldn't hear a syllable. The remaining four rushed towards them, only to run into an invisible barrier and no amount of kicking, slashing, stabbing or slicing could tear it down. The tribute from 5 thought that she could handle anything but as she watched her allies' mental anguish, she felt utterly useless. A tear glided down Peeta's face as he watched the love of his life and silently tried to comfort her. Quinn wished that she had gone with them as the only person that she had grown to care for was in the arena with her; if she had gone with them then she could have helped somehow…

After the hour was up, the wall disintegrated and Peeta rushed to cradle Katniss in his arms. Beetee walked closer to the group and placed a hand briefly on Finnick's shoulder to remind him that he was alive. Johanna paced back and forth as Peeta uttered words of reassurance but Quinn turned her back.

If she had known what to say, she might have checked on Finnick. If she had known what to do, she might have led the group to safety. If she had known how to feel, she would have felt it. Johanna was angry, Peeta was concerned, Beetee was compassionate, Finnick was shaken and Katniss was distraught but Quinn? Quinn felt empty, useless.

"Of course Peeta is right. The whole country adores Katniss' little sister, if they really killed her like this, they would have an uprising on their hands." Johanna sighed, as her temper flared. "Whole country in rebellion? Wouldn't want anything like that!" She screamed to the false skyline. "I'm going to get water."

"Don't go in there!" Katniss panicked, "The birds."

"They can't hurt me." The woman from District 7 scoffed in response before adding, "I'm not like any of you. There's no one left thatI love." And with a pointed look at Quinn (which caused the girl to advert her eyes and clench her jaw in annoyance), she snatched up the spiel and heading into the jungle.

* * *

Quinn sat in silence, contemplating everything that she could think of, as Katniss and Johanna spoke beside her. Her eyes wandered to Finnick who sat alone in the water as Johanna told Katniss about Annie.

"She's the girl that Mag's volunteered for. Lost her mind in the arena." The older brunette began. "The victors from four had all lost something and for Finnick, Mags and Annie, it was their families."

"So they made their own…" Katniss finished as Johanna nodded.

"Whenever Annie had one of her breakdowns, Finnick was always there for her. She's like a sister to him."

As Quinn rose to her feet, dusted the sand off of her legs and made her way over to the man in question, Katniss looked at Johanna. "What's the deal with those two?"

A chuckle escaped the woman's lips and for once, Katniss realised that it was genuine. "They're in love and both too stubborn to admit it." Johanna smirked, "He's been besotted with her since he met her." She went onto explain as Katniss listened eagerly, "Quinn's a little harder to figure out but when you know her as well as I do, you start to notice that the whole heartless façade she has going, slips when she's with him."

The Girl on Fire nodded as she watched her allies. "Why don't they just say how they feel?" She asked with a hint of naivety.

"I think it's just a game of cat and mouse that they play…but between you and me, Finnick thinks he's the cat but he's really not." The female victors laughed once more until sympathy flashed over Johanna's dark eyes. "Quinn's lost a lot. As long as I've known her, she's held people at arm's length and I would bet my life that she's scared that if she lets him in, she'll get him killed."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

Quinn hesitated as she sat down beside Finnick, sighing through her nose slightly. Her eyes scanned the centre of the arena, afraid to look at the man beside her; terrified to witness the broken look in his eyes. After a moment of silence, the young woman fought her internal defences and wrapped her hand around his and immediately felt his fingers intertwine with her own. The sky was beginning to turn into a soft sunset, one that could almost make them forget that they were supposed to be in a battle to the death. Almost.

Nothing could deter Quinn from her mission, from the promise that she had made to herself a long time ago – she was going to kill Snow. One way or another, she was going to watch as her knife sunk into his thigh, severing his artery and rendering his helpless. She was going to make him beg her to allow him to continue to pollute the air with his venomous breath and she was going to listen as her arrow whirred through the air, shattering his heart as his actions had done to hers. Quinn was going to watch as the life drain from his eyes, listen as his lungs heaved their final breath and smile at the sweet sense of retribution.

"Promise me that you won't do anything stupid. Promise me that you'll stay alive." Finnick finally spoke - as if reading her thoughts. He turned his gaze to survey her expression as a soft frown grazed her brow, "I know you don't understand why I keep asking that of you…or maybe you do but…just promise me?" As the victor beside him looked away, maintaining a stony silence, Finnick knew that it had been naïve to assume that she would put herself first. During the Quarter Quell, Quinn had grown to accept the fact that the man beside her had changed her, grown to accept that after years of resisting, she had let him into her life – into her heart – but she wasn't about to admit it. The waves danced over their feet, offering a break from the silence that had shortly ensued as the girl unconsciously grazed her thumb over his knuckles.

"I'm not very good at this whole emotional support thing…" Quinn finally spoke. "I mean, if you need someone me to punch someone? I could do that." A hearty chuckle escaped the man as he shook his head at her. "I'm sure Annie's going to be okay."

Squeezing her hand in response, Finnick smiled. He figured that they must be nearing the end of the Quarter Quell and every ounce of him prayed that whatever the plan was, they would be getting out alive. His gaze wandered over the girl, taking in every tiny detail as she seemed fixated on something further down the beach. He could almost hear the cogs in her head turning as she thought hard about whatever it was she was looking at. It was true that the victor could have looked for himself but in that moment, he decided that the rebellion could wait, the Mockingjay could wait. It was an exceptionally rare moment, like catching a glimpse of butterfly as it left its cocoon, and so he cherished it as he simply looked at her without being judged, held her hand without worrying that she was going to leave. The Hunger Games bred destruction but in that moment it allowed the creation of something so delicately intricate that the victor from four anxiously awaited its shatter.

"Katniss and Peeta are planning something." Was all she muttered as she glanced over his shoulder to look at the victors from twelve. "First chance they get, they're gone."

"You think?" Finnick asked as he studied her expression. He watched as her blonde sea-salted waves bounced as she nodded and returned her gaze to him. "You still don't trust them?"

"I don't trust anyone." A soft smile crept up onto Quinn's face as Finnick released her hand, pretending to have been stabbed in the heart and her smile only grew stronger as he stuck out his tongue and fell back into the sand, closing his eyes. "Idiot." She muttered, shaking her head and watching the cheeky grin that spread across his face, lighting up his eyes and deepening his dimples. "Katniss will do anything to protect Peeta. You can't ever truly trust someone like that."

Silence ensued for a moment as Finnick looked down at his hands, knowing that he was one of those people, knowing that he would sacrifice everything and everyone for another. As he raised his head and ran a hand through his tousled dirty blonde hair, there was something that sparked deep within Quinn's ice blue eyes that intrigued him. "You are such a cynic!" He chuckled as she nudged her shoulder into his, scowling and tutting. "They're in love! You know, butterflies in your stomach? Blushing at everything they say? Heart pounding in your chest?"

Quinn stared at the green eyes that seemed expectant of an answer before she erupted into laughter. "Who would have thought it?" She breathed, "Finnick Odair is a great big girl!"

"Well don't tell everyone!" Finnick gasped overdramatically, watching as her eyes glistened and she truly smiled; it was a rare sight but he thought it was the beauty that made the devastation of the Games and the plans of rebellion seem like minor crinkles in his life.

Quinn's voice pulled him from his thoughts as he realised he was staring: "Stop looking at me like that." She muttered, looking down and picking at the freshly formed scabs on her pale grazed hands.

"Like what?"

"You know what." She mumbled, sighing as her eyes met him once more. The slight frown that danced along her brow was short -lived as she smiled, despite herself, when the man in front of her crossed his eyes. "You're so annoying."

Finnick fought against his ever-widening grin before turning to her, softly and sincerely. "Alright Miss I-hate-everyone-and-love-is-just-a-myth, you're trying to tell me that you have _never_ been in love? Not even a little bit?"

Narrowing her eyes, Quinn felt as if he were looking straight into her soul. "Never heard of such a thing!" She exclaimed as she stood up and dusted the sand from her legs before stretching her arms above her head. A coy smile played on her lips as she offered him her hand, which he graciously took.

Her heart leapt into her throat as he stood and moved to a mere inch away from her and she mentally cursed herself as her cheeks felt warm. His breath tickled her nose as his eyes scanned the light freckles that lay barely visible across her cheeks but she wasn't going to give in. Her heart hammered against her chest as she feared that he would hear it. She gulped and focussed on maintaining her resolve, using every ounce of energy to ignore the way that his eyes flitted between her eyes and her lips. Her skin tingled as he slowly wrapped a hand softly around her wrist, grazing her pulse with his middle finger before moving closer still. Her stomach somersaulted at the look in his eye and shivered as his nose grazed the side of hers and his lips barely caressed hers as he whispered: "Liar." Before kissing her cheek and grinning devilishly and ducking away from her fist.

"Asshole."

* * *

"I think we'll all agree our next job is to kill Brutus and Enorbaria." Beetee spoke the next morning as the victors gathered around him.

Quinn rubbed her temples and rolled her eyes as the group discussed the average intelligence of the remaining victors and their ability to understand the concept of a clock. It seemed as if they had ruled Chaff out as being a potential complication. The continuous looks that the victors from twelve shared, told the young woman that from now on she would be required to watch them more carefully; the last thing she needed was to lose the 'Mockingjay' and she already knew in her heart that if it came down to it, she would protect Finnick (as promised). In all honesty, with the end looming over her, Quinn was stressed out and severely short-fused.

"If you were Brutus and Enorbaria, knowing what you do about the jungle, where would you feel safest?" The bespectacled man continued once he had everyone's attention once more.

"Where we are now. On the beach." Peeta suggested, watching as the older man smiled, nodding in agreement.

"Then why aren't they here?"

"Because we're here." Johanna and Quinn snapped in perfect unison with identical tones of annoyance and similar impatient eye-rolls.

"Exactly, we're claiming the beach. Now where would you go?"

"Is this going anywhere anytime soon?" The words had escaped the victor from five's mouth before she had the chance to filter it but as Johanna nodded in agreement, Quinn didn't mind being the villain. She soon realised however, that Finnick hadn't approved of her lack of tact, as she received a swift elbow to the ribs. A few warning glares later, the young woman sighed, ignoring the gleeful look on her ally's face: "I would be watching at the edge of the jungle, close enough to run to the beach if need be but far enough to be hidden from sight."

Nodding in agreement, Finnick added: "And for food. The jungle is full of strange creatures and plants but by watching us, they know that the seafood is safe."

A rather odd look of pride crossed Beetee's face as he nodded at the formidable pair: "Yes, good! Now here's what I propose: what happens exactly at noon and midnight?"

"I feel like I'm back at school." Quinn growled, huffing in annoyance as she lent backwards into the tree beside Finnick, who snorted in amusement.

As the victors received a lesson about the conductive abilities of salt water, Quinn abruptly suggested: "Why can't we just ambush and stab them? There's only two of them…I could do it on my own? Use the treeline for the cover, slit Enorbaria's throat and then sink the blade into Brutus before his tiny little brain even thinks about running. It would be done it seconds!" Silence drowned the group as they all stared at her with similar looks of blank disapproval. "What?"

"Odair, rein in your psycho." Johanna smirked as she winked at the young woman.

The lesson soon continued and Quinn began to consider stabbing the group in front of her, but that thought remained in her head as she listened to the plan. They were going to run Beetee's wire from the lightening tree, down into the water with the hope that the remaining victors would move to the beach as soon as they vacated the area. It all seemed a little too science fiction for the young woman who, for coming from the electrical district, knew next to nothing about harnessing the power of lightening.

After a round of questions and concerns about eliminating the seafood, accompanied by a round of sighs from an impatient and rather bloodthirsty Quinn, Katniss spoke up: "Why not? If it fails, no harm done. If it works, there's a chance that we'll kill them."

"Katniss is right." Peeta nodded. Johanna soon sighed and agreed, leaving the group to turn to the remaining victors.

The Girl on Fire watched the pair closely as Finnick turned to Quinn for reassurance – she should have known that he wouldn't agree to it without her. The two weren't just allies, they were partners like her and Peeta, and all the girl could do was hope that once Brutus and Enorbaria were dead, Johanna or Beetee would take them out.

The calculating silence continued as Quinn and Finnick appeared to be communicating telepathically until the prior nodded:

"Let's hope they like shellfish."


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N:_

 _Thank you to Guest, aishiteru naru, NicoleR85, z, guest and TwoHeartedMarauder for their reviews! I love reading your opinions!_

 _Please let me know what you think of this one :)_

 _HAPPY NEW YEAR!_

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own anything or anyone from The Hunger Games Trilogy, however I do own Quinn Larkin and her story.**

As the allies stood around the lightening tree, Quinn sharpened her dagger. The heat was sweltering and even with her torn suit, her hair curled and her brow sweated as the sun burned her exposed shoulder. Finnick remained within a few feet of her, watching as she blew wandering stands of blonde hair out of her eyes and her brow creased slightly as she tucked the knife into her belt and turned to look at him.

"What?" She huffed, aggravated by the heat.

As the victor from four grinned cheekily, Beetee spoke up: "Let's get started. Typically, a lightning strike contains five million jolts of electricity, we don't want to be here when it hits. You three girls, take this." The man ordered as he tossed the wire to Quinn, noticing the worry on Finnick's face as he stepped closer to her. "Unspool it carefully, make sure the entire coil is in the water, understand? Then head to the two o'clock sector, we will meet you there."

"I'm going as guard." Peeta immediately argued, prompting an audible sigh from Quinn. "I need to go with her."

"There are two careers out there, I need two guards."

"Finnick can protect you fine on his own." The boy continued to argue.

"No." Quinn immediately interjected at the suggestion, "He's not cannon fodder and he's certainly not going to take on three victors on his own so that you can waltz through the jungle holding hands!" Finnick smiled at his feet as the young woman jumped to his defence, something stirring inside of him as he recalled their conversation in the training room and her choice of words. As she opened her mouth to continue, he intertwined his hand with her right hand as it rested behind her back. A sign of affection that had gone unnoticed by the group.

"Why can't Finnick and Johanna stay? Peeta, Quinn and I will take the coil." Katniss suggested, determined to keep Peeta by her side.

"So you can slit my throat after I've killed the careers for you?" The victor from five spoke in a false sickly sweet tone before continuing in a much lower, threatening voice. "Two against one? I'm not sure that you will like your odds, Princess."

The tension between the two girls could have been sliced with a knife. The younger of the two miserably failing against the alpha. Beetee reminded the allies that they had promised to keep him alive until midnight as Johanna agreed and stood beside her friend.

"Is there a problem here?" Finnick finally spoke up.

Beetee nodded towards Katniss, unconsciously moving to stand beside Quinn. _Four against two_ …Katniss didn't have a leg to stand on and so she shook her head: "No, no problem."

After whispering goodbyes and exchanging kisses with Peeta, the Girl on Fire turned to Quinn, pulling her out of earshot of the others as her eyes flickered to the victor's hand as it slid out of Finnick's. "Haymitch told me that you never break a promise – you promised to keep Peeta alive. I know you don't trust me but…please, stay here and do that."

The Ice Queen surveyed the Girl on Fire's face for a moment before deciding that she would rather be with Finnick should the worst happen and so she nodded. Katniss let out a sigh of relief as she took the coil from Quinn's hands.

Quinn ran a filthy hand through her hair as she headed back towards the men. Immediately, she stood beside Peeta, taking a section of the coil out of his hands and helping to wrap it around the trunk of the lightening tree. The wire felt cold between her fingertips and much too thin to carry the current required, much too fragile to span the distance to the beach. However, she kept her scepticism to herself and continued to work quickly and quietly as the other end of the wire grew tight and Katniss and Johanna disappeared from sight.

Beetee continued his preparations as Peeta collected water and Finnick sat on a nearby rock. Quinn paced back and forth, her mind running through one thousand possibilities of how the rebellion would flourish but as her eyes landed on the man that she had grown to care for, she momentarily lost sight of her will to kill. How can you fight for something when your heart isn't in it? That is what the young victor was struggling with. When she had agreed to join the rebellion, it had been on the promise that the President of Panem would die at her hand. It had been on the promise that she would get her revenge…but at what cost? What would they have to lose before they reached the end goal? At the beginning, the rebellion seemed like a means to achieve her own goals but as the final cannon call came closer, Quinn knew that it was foolish to think that she could save everyone. Foolish to think that she wouldn't lose. And truth be told, in the beginning, she had nothing to lose…no one. Truth be told, Quinn had accidentally let her guard down and she knew in her heart that she was setting herself up for a fall.

"Don't think too hard, you'll hurt yourself." The man grinned, grabbing her arm as she passed him for the hundredth time. "What's wrong?" He whispered, pulling her closer to him.

"I hate you." Quinn groaned as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Wow. Not what I was expecting but okay…?"

Rolling her eyes, she sat up and looked at him before taking a deep breath, "You are the most annoying and persistent person that I have come across and I hate you because you've made me care and now I have something to lose so what if this plan doesn't work? Finnick, stop laughing!" Scowling as the man beside her chuckled at her rant, she growled, "Changed my mind, I'm going to let Enobaria eat you."

"I'm sorry," Finnick grinned after he had taken a breath. Reaching up and gingerly swiping a curl of blonde away from her eyes, he spoke once more. "Everything is going to be okay and if something goes wrong then we will deal with it." He smiled trying to cheer her up only for her to raise an eyebrow with an unimpressed expression. "You really are impossible you know that?"

"It's been mentioned." Quinn shrugged, smiling lightly. A soft blush grew across her cheekbones as Finnick traced a pattern across her hand. His gaze remained fixed on her as his eyes took in every tiny detail, trying to etch her into his memory; trying to remember the arch in her nose, the way her eyes would flicker between his when she looked at him, the dark grey ring that enclosed her irises and the speck of silver in her left eye. Trying to remember her. "Why do you always look at me like that?"

"Because I'm scared that you're right and I don't want to forget the little things." He whispered, suddenly aware of the lack of space between them and subconsciously leaning towards her. Getting closer to the girl had been like shovelling snow in a blizzard but every storm runs out of rain and as vulnerable as it made the victor from four, he had only grown to love her more. As their noses grazed and their hands intertwined, they could almost forget their surroundings but as their eyes fluttered shut and their lips just about touched, the sound of metal forced them apart.

The wire had been cut.

The world seemed to tumble around them as the arena burst into chaos. Katniss' scream echoed through the sector causing Peeta to turn tail and run.

"I made a promise, I need to protect him!" Quinn spoke as she grabbed her bow and ran after him.

"Quinn!" Finnick shouted causing her to halt and turn back to him, "I l-"

"Shut up." She smiled softly before running back, planting a kiss on his lips and sprinting after the younger boy, ignoring the flutter of her heart as she shouted "Don't die!" Over her shoulder.

* * *

As Peeta yelled Katniss' name, Quinn hadn't been the only one to hear him and so she was in a race with Brutus to reach the oblivious boy. Her calf muscles burned as she ran, carefully avoiding the tree stumps and rocks that littered the jungle floor, her bowstring tight and ready to let the arrow fly. As she raced through the forest, she was yanked to the side as her back hit a tree and a hand covered her mouth.

Her body jumped into fight mode, only to realise that her captor was Peeta himself. Twigs around them crackled under the pressure of a foot as the pair remained deathly silent, allowing the victors to pass them.

"We need to find Katniss." The boy whispered as the careers disappeared from sight and he released the older girl.

"Wait!" Quinn hissed as she pulled her knife out of her belt. Gritting her teeth, she stabbed it into the upper part of her right arm. Peeta's face took on an awful shade of green as he stared at the blood that run down the knife and covered her hand. Pushing through the pain as her body began to shake from the shock, Quinn forced her index finger and thumb through the cut; ignoring the nauseating feeling at the pit of her stomach as it threatened to remind her of the taste of what she would not allow to be her last meal. She dug around until she slid over the cool metal of the tracking device. "Do you trust me?" She asked through gritted teeth as she pulled out the bar and tossed it behind her.

For a second, Peeta remained silent until he looked at her and nodded: "Yes, always." Blocking out the sounds of the battle and what sounded like fire crackling, Quinn wiped the knife on her leg and brought it up to boy's arm. "Wait! We need to stop your arm from bleeding first…I think you've nicked the artery; it shouldn't be bleeding that much."

In that moment, the young woman realised how faint she felt as the blood soaked her, spurting occasionally with every heartbeat. Nodding, she remained still as Peeta ripped off one of his sleeves and began to tie it tightly around her arm, much to her discomfort.

"Peeta, we don't have a lot of time!"

"What's going on?"

"I can't tell you that but just know that everything I've done is to try and keep you alive." Quinn continued, looking at the boy until he nodded and told her again that he trusted her with his life.

Her hands shook as she lifted the knife, prompting the boy to place a hand over hers to steady it. Taking a deep breath, they pushed the blade towards his upper arm…

Suddenly, the arena shook beneath them causing the dagger to tumble to the dirt. Gripping each other for balance, they stood up straight only to be thrown as the ground exploded.

The world spun like a spinning top as Quinn heaved the mud out of her lungs and her hand gingerly tapped the bloodied wound on her head. Trees fell around her as fire gasped at the jungle, demolishing it with every lick. Amid the falling timber was tumbling force field, the honeycombed shapes glowing orange as they exploded. Her ears rang with every almighty bang and through the blur in her eyes she saw the darkened outline of a hovercraft.

"Peeta!" She tried to shout through a raspy throat, coughing as she inhaled the smoke that danced around her, suffocating her words. "Peeta!" Trying to stand, she cried out in pain as the bone in her ankle pushed through the skin causing her to heave once more. The great inferno around her burned her skin, singed her hair and strangled her throat. Lack of oxygen soon took hold as she spun into unconsciousness, her head throbbing in pain and her broken body growing heavier by the second.

As tears mingled with the blood and darted down her ash covered cheeks, her eyes fluttered shut and she slipped away to the sound of a raging fire crackling, the beat of the hovercraft as it wafted the flames and the terrified tones of the boy from District twelve as he screamed her name.

Despite the blistering heat of the relentless fire, Quinn felt cold. As cold as ice.

As cold as Snow.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

* * *

The bright white light was blinding as it burned her ice blue irises, robbing her of vision and orientation. She was almost suffocated by the pungent smell of disinfectant as it hung thickly in the air, coating her lungs as her dry mouth gasped for clean breath. As her eyes adjusted, she viewed her wired prison as cables connected to every viable vein. Panic set in as she tried to stand, only to find her right arm had been anchored to the bed with a thick metal cuff.

Heavy footsteps approached; two marching in perfect synchronisation, one lagging behind. As instinct kicked in, she scanned the room and her eyes landed on the surgical table that sat just out of reach to her left – but that would never stop her. Her cuffed wrist burned against the metal as she stretched as far as she could, racing against the steady beat of the approaching footsteps. Her hand felt as though it might rip from her arm as her fingertips grazed the handle of a scalpel. Gritting her teeth in pain and blinking back the involuntary tears that glistened in her eyes, she lurched forward once more, ignoring the thick warm blood that trickled down her arm from its metal cage as she obtained her weapon and the door slid open.

Without stopping to think, the scalpel left her hand and soared through the thick disinfectant fumed air. A flash of dirty blonde hair whipped round as the blade embedded itself deep into the doorframe.

"Holy Hell, Quinn!" The man yelled in fright as he turned towards her, widened blue eyes meeting her own. Haymitch. "What is it with women trying to kill me with medical equipment, today?" He huffed as he strutted further into the room, followed by two other men that held themselves like soldiers. "Get that off her. She isn't a prisoner."

"Sorry, sir. It was the President's orders."

The dark-haired boy – who appeared to be younger than her – rushed over and removed the restraint whilst muttering numerous apologises that fell on deaf ears. Her reddened wrist fell from the metal cuff and she rubbed it gently before attempting to stand. A soft hiss escaped her lips as she applied her weight to the leg that had been covered in soft white bandages – completely forgetting the explosion that she would later find out had shattered it. As a sharp pain shot through her bones, she tumbled forward only to be caught by the man in front of her.

"You stink of liquor." Quinn mumbled as she gritted her teeth and stood once more.

"I believe the words you were looking for were 'thank you, Haymitch, you are my hero'." The older man retorted, his tone thick with sarcasm. "Be careful on that leg, as miraculous as Capitol medicine is, it's not completely healed."

The stone hallways of the infamous District 13 were dark and felt cold. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and her fingers twitched in anticipation. The new surroundings felt odd to her and despite the familiar face, she wanted to run. She wanted to fight her way out with every ounce of energy that she could muster.

Growling in frustration whenever Haymitch grabbed her arm to aid her in her hobble, she slowly made her way towards the meeting room: "Who else made it out?" She asked trying to mask the concern that shone through her tone.

"Yes, your boyfriend made it out." Haymitch nodded as he slowed down to allow her to catch up once more. "He's not completely himself but he's okay. Refused to leave your bedside until the doctor forced him to sleep." If Quinn had allowed herself to, she would have smiled. She might have even blushed under the man's knowing stare. "The Capitol were going crazy for you during the Games...turns out that the story of the Golden Boy who refused to give up on the cold-hearted girl was a real tear-jerker among the fancy folk." His hair brushed his shoulders as he shook his head with a chuckle whilst the girl scoffed and rolled her eyes, adamant that there was no story.

Another sharp pain rocketed through her shin like an explosion causing her to stop and brace herself against the wall. Breathing deeply through her nose, she slapped the wall with a bubbling rage at her physical weakness until the ripple of muscle jerked the slit on her arm and she was reminded of the tracker, the explosion...

"Where's Peeta?" She suddenly asked as her eyes widened but as her companion shook his head, she felt as if she had been punched in the face. "They got him..." She muttered rhetorically as guilt flooded her senses. In all her years, Quinn had never broken a promise. In all her years, Quinn had never failed to carry out her duties, never once shirked a responsibility. Never failed anyone but herself. Until Peeta. A lump grew in her throat as she clenched her jaw and descended into silence. It was no lie that she could have saved him from the clutches of the dictator; no lie that she could have removed his tracker first but in all honesty, she didn't want to. She had failed him because she had put herself first and for a girl who claimed to have nothing left to live for, she had been all too desperate to make it out alive – to make it home.

Haymitch sighed as she pushed herself from the wall and forced her feet forward, shrugging him off as he offered his arm. As they turned the corner, Quinn blinked hard to force the negative thoughts out of her mind. Grinded her teeth to banish the self-blame. Truth be told, perhaps she did have something to live for; it was him or her and she would never let Snow close enough to reopen the scars that she had spent years stitching.

"Oh." Haymitch muttered, pulling her from her thoughts as they entered a room plastered in technology and numerous maps marked with strategies in unfamiliar codes. "You might want to avoid..." His words were cut short as a fist collided with Quinn's face, forcing it to the left as the impact rippled through her skull. "Katniss." He continued through a sigh as the girl stumbled backwards, the pins in her leg doing nothing to steady her as it bucked under the weight.

"You promised!" The younger girl screamed like a wild animal. Quinn slackened her jaw as she lifted her head and raised back up into a prepared slump, eyes stony despite the shock. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth as Katniss continued. "He trusted you but you were too selfish to put him first."

The brunette girl drew dangerously close to the blonde, anger rushing through her as her arm raised subconsciously. As the men in the room moved to intervene, Quinn's hand caught the smaller fist and bent it backwards as her own fist pushed into the girl's torso. Her demons took over to eliminate the threat as the Mockingjay bend forward. Within the blink of an eye, Quinn's hand was around the girl's throat throwing her backwards into the wall. Adrenaline kicked in and her leg no longer irked her as she concentrated on allowing the girl to live. "I have just about had enough of being treated like the villain. I am sorry that I couldn't save your little boyfriend." She spoke, her voice deathly low and her face a mere inch from the brunette's as her fist provided pressure to her airways – the animal instinct threatening to spill blood. "But if you ever lay your hands on me again, it will be the last thing that you do. Mockingjay or not."

The fear in Katniss' eyes only seemed to spur her on as the blood trickled from her busted lip. All eyes were on her as she held her prey. All breaths ceased under the weight of her threat – her promise.

"Quinn." A voice snapped from behind her. Heavy, uneven footsteps approached as she felt Katniss swallow and their eyes remained locked with one another's. A large hand was soon placed on her shoulder as she felt a presence behind her. "Quinn, let her go." Haymitch's voice spoke as gently as his gruff tone would allow, forcing the animal to retreat into the jungle of her mind. Her eyes remained on her victim as she released her and she was pulled to the opposite side of the tiny room.

"He should have been here." Katniss rasped as her hand reached up, tentatively, to massaged her neck. Her eyes trained on the older girl as her mentor shot her a warning look.

"Want to trade places?" Quinn shot over Haymitch's shoulder, fighting against him as he held her in place and ignoring him as he urged her to stop it. "I'll drag you there myself!"

"Alright, ladies." Plutarch Heavensbee finally uttered uselessly through the thick tension that consumed the room. "I hope we can all resolve our differences..."

As a synchronised scoff erupted from the victors in question, they finally agreed on something as they snapped: "Shut up."

* * *

She took a deep breath as she pulled open the large iron door that concealed the living quarters. Having woken to the news that Annie had been assassinated during a live broadcast and Prim's warning that the explosion in the arena had affected his ability to concentrate, Quinn had no idea what to expect when she stepped into his room.

The empty claustrophobic quarters were not unlike the others but as she approached the bed, she noticed an uncountable mass of knotted rope. Her dainty fingers danced over his handiwork and her brow wrinkled in slight consideration as she noticed the picture that lay on his pillow; it was a typical day in District 4 and the sunshine radiated off Annie's red hair as she smiled happily at Mags who had her arm linked through a younger Finnick's. Another family that had been ripped apart by the wrath of a tyrant.

"Nice dress." Quinn muttered as the young man entered the room wearing nothing but a white hospital gown.

A smile broke across his tired face as he approached her and immediately pulled her into a tight embrace. No words were spoken as they held onto each other, both thankful to be alive and out of the arena despite the trials that were heading their way. Finnick's muscular arms held her tighter than they had ever held anything as if she were the only tangible thing in his life – terrified that should he left her go, he would find that she was nothing more than a mirage.

"What happened to your lip?" He asked, a soft frown on his face as he pulled back to look at her. "It wasn't bleeding this morning."

"It's nothing." Quinn lied as she awkwardly stepped away from his embrace. "I'm sorry about Annie." She whispered almost inaudibly causing the man to nod and look away from her as he began tying another knot on a long piece of rope.

After a few moments of silence Finnick's head shot up, his gaze almost dreamy as he announced: "You haven't eaten." And wandered purposefully out of the room, expecting her to follow.

Quinn stood for a moment, speechless until she sighed and began the agonisingly slow hobble to the dining hall. With every footstep, her leg would twinge and she could almost feel the pins as they pushed their way through her bones but she was determined to be fighting fit within the week. She almost laughed as she spotted the victor from four marching back towards her looking rather sheepish.

"Sorry. I forgot about your leg." He admitted almost shyly as he held his arm out to her, pleasantly surprised when she accepted it. "I seem to be forgetting a lot lately..."

Every single person that the pair passed greeted them affectionately and with the upmost respect but Quinn hated it. She hated the sympathy that crossed their faces when they looked at the man beside her and she hated when they referred to her as a hero, because she wasn't. The only reason that she had survived the arena was because she had promised herself that she would, because she was promised Snow's last breath. If she was a hero, she would have saved Peeta and she would have found a way to protect her family. If she was a hero, she wouldn't have already considered going rogue.

The dining hall was a little brighter than the corridors but the sandy stone walls were just as depressing. She sat at the end of one of the long picnic style benches and Finnick placed a bowl of soup and a roll in front of her and as he took his place across her, she truly looked at him for the first time since the arena. As his sea-green eyes scanned her blues ones before glancing around the room, she realised how unhinged he looked. A lump grew in her throat as she studied him; the dark circles that cradled his usually bright eyes, the unruly curls that would have given him a heart attack should he see the state of them and the callouses that grazed his fisherman's hands as they wound their way around a piece of rope repeatedly. The man in front of her may have resembled the bold victor from four but it wasn't really him and when the others had warned her of his condition, Quinn hadn't realised how hard it would be to see him like that. Biting her bottom lip, she pushed the vegetables around in the bowl, silently wishing for an annoyingly witty comment to pass between them and willing him to look at her for more than a millisecond. Weakness was something that the victor from five had spent years trying to rid herself of but as she sat across from the man who had persistently tried to befriend her since the day of her victory tour, she realised that she hadn't just found a weakness, she had found something much worse. He was like water to her, she needed him to survive even the most mundane of days but if she slipped any deeper, she would drown and it scared hell out of her.

"Don't make me force feed you." Finnick smiled, finally placing the knotted rope on the table and looking at her as she blinked.

"I'm worried about you." She whispered, as the monitors behind her burst into life.

Over the years, she had grown accustomed to ignoring the broadcasts from The Capitol but as the false chirp of Caesar Flickerman introduced someone that she had believed to be dead, she immediately spun around to face the screens. When Peeta's face appeared, it was as if all sound was sucked from the room. Her heart felt heavy as she exhaled through her nose and slowly rose to her feet.

"I should have just run off with her, earlier in the day like she wanted" The boy on the screen sighed as Katniss wandered towards the screen in awe.

"But you didn't, why? were you caught up in Beetee's plan?" Caesar asked.

"No." Peeta sighed."I was caught up trying to play allies and then they separated us and...that's when I lost her. Quinn and I were trying to find her and..."

"Yes, Quinn Larkin from District 5. There have been many speculations about her role in the plan."

"I don't know how involved she was but to me, she wasn't just an ally...she was my friend and she protected me with her life." Sadness crossed the boy's face as he looked down at his hands. "I owe her my life." Fingers intertwined with Quinn's as everyone in the room turned to look at her. Finnick squeezed her hand in silent support, his eyes speaking the words that needn't be said aloud. Katniss' gaze wandered over to the older girl as the boy appeared to grieve for her and the interview continued. The room remained deafeningly silent as Peeta captivated the audience. "The lightening hit and the whole forcefield around the arena just blew out and we were thrown away from each other."

"Yes, but Peeta, Katniss is the one who blew it out. You saw the footage!"

"No, she didn't know what she was doing." The baker's son argued, "Neither of us knew that there was a bigger plan, we had no idea..."

Quinn sighed and turned away from the screens, anger radiating through her as the boy that she had grown to call a friend was forced to publicly defend himself and Katniss. Finnick looked at her as if she might explode before she slid her hand out of his and made to leave.

"I want everyone who is watching to stop and to think about what a civil war could mean." Peeta's words stopped her in her tracks, forcing her to turn back towards the screens. "We almost went extinct once before and now our numbers are even fewer, is this really what we want to do?" Gasps and scoffs of disbelief and disagreement echoed off the stone walls as the boy spoke to the camera. "Kill ourselves off? Killing is not the answer. Everyone needs to lay down their weapons immediately." Quinn's mouth fell open as the room erupted into outrage and the interview was drowned in shouts.

"Peeta," Caesar's voice broke through the livid room, "are you calling for a ceasefire?"

"Yes, I am."

Finnick tugged on her arm as treacherous accusations were thrown around the room, spreading like wildfire. "We should leave." He suggested as she nodded at him and the dining hall grew rowdier with the shouts of the raging mob. Katniss bolted past them, tears glistening in her eyes as she escaped before the mass turned on the boy's friends, turned on her.

* * *

"You need to sleep." Quinn stated as she nudged the unwilling victor's foot with hers. It had been about an hour since the broadcast and the pair had been discussing Peeta's motives – both concluding that he was being coerced. She had tried her hardest to keep him talking, to debate different topics with him, in the hope that it would help and aside from the continuous knotting, as he lay beside her, she almost forgot that there was anything wrong. "I'm going to go and check on Katniss."

Finnick scoffed, childishly pouting as he looked up at her from his pillow as she sat beside him with her back against the headboard: "You don't even like Katniss."

A smirk graced her face as she knew that lying was useless. "You need to get better...You're making me care and it's annoying." For the first time since the arena, Finnick laughed as he feigned an apology. "Plus, it's only been a day and I am sick of looking at this mess." She muttered, running her hand through his curls, attempting to tame them as he continued fiddling with the length of rope, a soft smile on his face. "Go to sleep." She ordered as she swung her legs around and stood from the bed.

"Yes, ma'am." The young man smirked as she tossed a blanket towards him. As she pushed open the iron door, she turned back with once last smile. "I'm glad that you're okay, Quinn." Finnick mumbled as he closed his eyes. "I don't know what I would have done if you weren't."

* * *

Katniss stared at the wall blankly as Quinn entered the room with two glasses and a stolen bottle of whisky.

"I'm sorry about earlier." The brunette whispered, looking up at the older girl as she sat down. "I had no idea that he felt that way about you...I had no idea that you tried to save him."

"He thinks I'm dead." Quinn responded, stubbornly refusing to apologise as she slid a glass across the table to Katniss. "That means that Snow does too."

Silence engulfed the pair as they clinked glasses and took a long swig of the dark alcohol, wincing as it slid down their throats.

"I can't help but think about what will happen to Peeta, whether we win this war or not." Katniss began, "He's definitely not safe there but you heard them in the dining hall...he's not safe here either."

Quinn contemplated her words for a second as she took another, much smaller sip. "I know that my words mean very little to you but, if we can get him back, I wouldn't let them hurt him. I failed him once and I won't do it again."

"I'm sorry about Finnick." The Girl on Fire whispered, "I know how you feel about him."

"He'll get better." Quinn snapped, reluctant to entertain the idea before she sighed softly under the younger girl's stare. "It's like he's a completely different person, sometimes...like he's not even there." She admitted quietly, loathing the vulnerability in her voice.

Wordlessly, Katniss reached forward and placed her hand over Quinn's, causing her to jump from the contact. There was nothing that either of them could say that would console the other in their personal battles. Katniss had the weight of the world on her shoulders and the stress of watching the person she loved fade away under the torture of The Capitol and Quinn had a whole storm of self-loathing and the urge to spill blood whilst trying to fool herself into thinking that she hadn't been foolish enough to fall for the victor with the sandy blonde curls and the sea-green eyes. Yet, despite their differences and their ability to rile each other up to the point of explosion, the remaining female victors were going to make it through the trials of the civil war.

One way or another.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

 _Peeta's screams echoed through the halls as Quinn hid from the Peacekeepers, a gun held close to her chest. He screamed for her, begging her to make them stop. Pleading for her to kill him. Searing hot tears burned her irises as she turned the corner, trying her hardest to block out the cries of the first person in a very long time that she had grown to call a friend. His screams were heart-wrenching, tearing at her very soul and forcing her bloodied hands to clutch at her ears until…nothing. The silence deafened her as she slowly removed her hands and forced herself to move forwards._

 _"_ _You promised." A voice whispered from behind her, ricocheting off the whitened walls of the tribute building. Echoing incessantly in a private torment. "You promised, Quinn."_

 _Slowly turning on her heel, she faced Katniss. Her face grey and her eyes hollow as she released an arrow towards the older victor. A sick smile on her face as it plunged into her chest._

Quinn gasped as she shot up, clutching her chest as sweat beaded across her blonde hairline. Blinking furiously, she ran her hands through her hair before stepping out of her bed and slipping on a pair of shoes.

District 13 was deathly silent aside from the distinct hum of the lights that lined the corridors. Her footsteps echoed as she tiptoed through the maze of concrete, finally arriving at her destination and sliding the metal door open.

"Hey, are you okay?" He whispered as she muttered an apology for waking him.

"Yeah. I just wanted to check up on you." The young woman lied sliding the heavy sheet of industrial metal shut again.

"Liar." Finnick smirked as he yawned, stretching before patting the bed beside him. "What's wrong?" He asked as she lay down beside him and they turned to face each other. He noticed the dark rings that cradled her ice blue eyes and the lack of colour across her cheeks; she was exhausted and it was beginning to get the better of her.

"Is it crazy to wish that I was still in the Games?" Quinn whispered, swatting his hand away when he moved a strand of her hair. "I mean…we live underground, we aren't allowed to the surface for natural daylight and we have to wear jumpsuits like prisoners. I can only imagine what is happening to Peeta and Johanna in The Capitol and you're crazy." The victor from five ranted between yawns.

Finnick's eyes crinkled as he laughed, "I'm not crazy…I tied less knots today than yesterday."

Rolling her eyes half-heartedly, Quinn confirmed: "You're crazy."

"Maybe a little." The man smiled warmly, one of the first genuine ones that he had managed since arriving in the underground district. Gently drawing patterns on the back of her hand while he watched her survey his face with an unusual concentration, he wanted nothing more than to forget about the rebellion – and the trauma that they had been through – and remain there with her.

Completely oblivious to his thoughts and blinking furiously to remain awake, the young woman voiced her own train of thought and it was much less pleasant: "Coin has everyone fooled into thinking that she is running a democracy but it's just another dictatorship. Democracies aren't run by one person with no room for another opinion, she just wants rid of Snow so she can control Panem on her own."

"That's a dangerous accusation." Finnick whispered warningly and Quinn yawned, rubbing her eyes. "Don't repeat that to anyone else."

"I just wish I was back in the arena doing what I do best. I don't know where I stand here…"

The victor from four watched intently as she sighed softly into the pillow, her deep blue eyes closing under the pressure of the fatigue that she had been trying to avoid since the arena. Smiling, he pulled the blanket over the top of her shoulder, whispering: "Now who's the crazy one?"

A small smile ghosted her pale complexion and her breathing became deep as she drowsily moved closer to him, resting her head against his chest and mumbling sleepily, "Still you, Knot-boy."

* * *

Quinn jolted awake, her muscles immediately preparing to defend herself as her heart hammered in her chest. A loud alarm rang out through the entire district, setting her on edge; her fearful blue eyes scanning the room, as the man beside her sat up and grazed her arm with his fingertips.

"It's okay." He whispered, his voice raspy as he spoke for the first time. "It's just the alarm they use to call everyone for a meeting." Closing her eyes, she sighed through her nose before nodding and sinking back into the pillow. "That means we have to get up." Finnick grinned as she scowled at him. Her muscles groaned as she rolled over, having had the most sleep since the arena, she could barely bring herself to stand. The rebellious victor hated herself every time she slid into the dark grey jumpsuit and concluded that as soon as she found an alternative, she would refuse to wear it and claim back a tiny victory.

As they joined the crowd that filled the central room on the underground community, Quinn grinded her teeth as she watched the residents of thirteen glance up at the self-titled president. The older woman stood on the balcony, looking down on the people and something about it fuelled an angry fire in the pit of Quinn's stomach, that was no way to lead a mass of terrified individuals who have never had to fight for their lives. As the hall became cramped around them, she felt Finnick tense beside her as he began tying and untying knots on a tiny strip of fabric; the crowd too much for the paranoia of his healing mind. His sea-green eyes darted continually between the balcony, his knots and Quinn prompting her to sigh softly as she placed a hand over his before scowling at how soft she had become.

She couldn't help but notice the robotic nature in which President Coin addressed the people; the scripted puppetry that seemed nothing but false to the observant victor. There was nothing motivational in her words, nothing warm that would encourage the down-hearted to follow her into battle, or rather follow her orders as she sent their untrained bodies to their early graves.

"Katniss Everdeen has consented to be the face of our cause. To help unite the districts against the capitol." The silver haired woman spoke prompting the crowd to stare at the young victor with the long dark hair. Katniss' eyes were already trained on the victor from five, searching for a supportive face in the herd of unfamiliarity. Quinn sent a nod her way as a form of reassurance, internally groaning at the newfound expectations that had somehow been place on her. The blonde victor had never been one of support and reassurance and yet she found herself with the sanity of two of her fellow victors in her hands alongside the life of another's. "In exchange, I have promised several concessions. First, we will assess all possible extractions for the victors held hostage in the capitol, Peeta Mellark…"

Outrage echoed off the stone walls of the circular room as shouts of protest blanketed them.

"Leave the traitor to rot!" A voice rang out from behind Quinn, causing her to spin around and grab the man by the collar of his jumpsuit.

"I suggest you watch your mouth, I am not known for my compassion." She hissed as Katniss appeared, gently pulling her from the man who muttered an apology with widened eyes before backing away.

"And Johanna Mason. Once free they will be granted full pardon for all and any crimes committed against the cause." Coin continued once the noise had died down. Her threatening gaze wandered to the young victor who stood between Quinn and Finnick. "If Katniss Everdeen fails to perform her duties, the deal will be off. Thank you for your attention, please resume your daily schedules."

The older girl watched as the Mockingjay paled under the weight of the threat. Flaring her nostrils, Quinn lifted her head to meet Coin's stare and raised her chin in subtle defiance. Like a mother bear protecting her cub, she sent the woman a silent message:

 _You will not mess with them._

* * *

The bullets plunged into the target missing any vital organs, must to her dismay. Sighing, she pulled the earmuffs off and tossed them onto the table as she picked up a box of bullets to reload the handgun.

"Not bad but definitely not fatal." A deep voice rang out from behind her.

"I don't know…I doubt anyone could survive with an entire clip emptied into their torso." She responded, turning around to face Gale Hawthorne. "I've never been good with a gun. Hand me any other weapon and I could take down an army."

"Cocky."

"Confident in my skills."

Gale laughed as she leant against the table and smirked at him: "Are you okay?" Frowning slightly, Quinn raised an eyebrow prompting the boy to explain, "A lot has happened recently..."

"I understand why you asked." The victor interrupted, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's just that you've just been the first person to ask that doesn't want to know about Finnick or Katniss." As Gale nodded in understanding, she sighed. "All I know is that I have to be okay. There are people relying on me and I have let them down enough already."

"You haven't let anyone down." The boy argued, shaking his head gently. "Plutarch and Coin were the ones that failed to rescue Peeta from the arena, they were the ones that chose which of you to save. That's not on you."

For the first time, a weight seemed to momentarily lift from her shoulders as Gale's words comforted her. However, in typical Quinn fashion, it had forced her walls to jump up and so she retorted with: "Aren't you supposed to be following Katniss around like a lost puppy?"

"Funny." The taller of the two muttered as he smiled sarcastically causing her to snigger. A moment's silence brewed between them as the boy from twelve pondered his next question. "How did you do it? Mentor children just to watch them die in the arena."

Tensing slightly, Quinn swallowed before answering: "Rule number one: don't get attached." She shrugged, pulling the clip out of the gun and reloading, one bullet at a time. "The majority never made it past the bloodbath and the one that did? She was smart, always listened to my advice and followed my orders." Pulling back the chamber, she recalled the red-headed girl. "Just not smart enough to avoid eating Nightlock; whether she meant to or not, she could have lasted longer."

"I can't imagine going through that every year."

"You get used to losing people."

Gale grimaced slightly at the icy tone that matched the ice in her eyes, before sighing softly: "You shouldn't cup the grip. It's unstable and makes it harder to control the recoil." He instructed, closing the gap between them and reaching forward to remove her hand from the handle prompting her to raise a perfectly blonde eyebrow at him. "Place this hand," He continued, nudging her left hand: "around the handle so your fingers are on top of the trigger hand. Makes your shots more accurate" Watching as she sighed and changed her position, he nodded. "Now the only problem is your aim." He smirked causing her to scoff and roll her eyes.

"I wouldn't listen to him. At least you shot your target on the first attempt." Beetee spoke from behind them, causing a smug look to cross Quinn's face before Gale nudged her shoulder and they turned to face the bespectacled victor as he navigated his wheelchair towards them. "Haymitch would like you both in the meeting room to view Katniss' propo video."

Nodding, Quinn placed the gun on the rack and followed Beetee out of the training room with Gale in step.

"Every time I walk through here, I am reminded why I hate this place." She muttered as they wandered through the dark halls.

"A spirit so wild and free grows perilous when caged like an animal." Beetee nodded whimsically, understanding where the girl was coming from.

"Who said that?"

The older victor smiled as he wheeled into the meeting room which housed Coin, Haymitch, Plutarch, Katniss and Effie: "Me."

Quinn couldn't quite believe her eyes as she sat at the end of the table and watched the first propaganda video that Katniss had filmed as the Mockingjay. The entire film was false, something that The Capitol would have been ashamed of and then there was the acting…

As the Mockingjay symbol appeared on the screen, the room remained silent until Quinn couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. She wiped her eyes as Katniss shrunk into her seat with embarrassment whilst the attention was on District 5's victor.

"I'm sorry but you expect the people of Panem to rally behind _that_?" Quinn laughed once more, watching as Haymitch ran a hand over his face in despair. Turning to Alma Coin, her expression turned to one of deadly seriousness. "Everyone is terrified. Many of them have never had to fight for anything and most them have never held a weapon in their lives and you're asking them to follow _that?_ To risk their lives and the lives of their children for a puppet on a string."

Her words surprised the room, many of them seeing the fire that lay within her heart for the first time. The victor had been distant since she had arrived in District 13, a shadow with no purpose but as she spoke out for the people of Panem, they saw a different side to her. A side that may help them win the war. As Beetee and Haymitch nodded in response, Coin was far from impressed: "I suppose _you_ could do better?"

"Prim's cat could do better." Quinn shot back, her eyes narrowed as the older woman studied her whilst Gale and Katniss smirked in amusement. "You wish to use propaganda to reach the people and recruit them to your cause, yet you do not understand them. You have no idea how much they are suffering because you are hiding underground. By sending them a message created by a ton of machines with a girl that has no belief in the script, you are not showing them something that they can believe in."

Haymitch stared at the spirited victor for a moment, her words sparking an idea in the depths of his mind: "Okay. Let's everybody think of one incident when Katniss Everdeen genuinely moved you." He started, commanding the room once more. "Not when you envied her and not when Peeta made you like her, but when she genuinely moved you."

"Well, I stumbled a bit when she punched me…" Quinn interjected nonchalantly causing Katniss to choke on a laugh and Haymitch to launch his pen at her. Effie made a quiet noise of disapproval that reminded Quinn of a pony as Plutarch bit back a smile and Coin rolled her eyes.

"I want you all to think of one moment when she made you feel something real." The blonde man continued, pacing at the front of the room before pausing to point at Quinn who had opened her mouth to say something else: "Not you. You are banned from talking."

Raising her hands in mock surrender, she sat back in her chair as Effie smiled and raised her hand like a child in a classroom: "When she volunteered for her sister at the reaping." The escort helpfully supplied prompting Haymitch to start a list on the electronic whiteboard. "Oh, and when she sang that song for little Rue."

"Who didn't get choked up at that? You know I like you better, Effie…without all that makeup."

"I like you better sober."

Quinn rolled her eyes at the flirting as Beetee offered an answer and the group concluded that in order to make the videos believable, the words had to come from Katniss. Half listening, the victor nodded in agreement as it was suggested that rather than covering her face in makeup, they allowed the young girl from district 12 to look youthful.

"I can't sanction sending an untrained civilian into battle just for effect." Coin scoffed at Plutarch's suggestion.

"Hardly untrained." Quinn interrupted the argument, breaking Haymitch's ban.

The silver haired woman turned her icy stare to the insubordinate girl: "This is not the Capitol."

"Really? Aside from the poorer conditions, I really couldn't tell."

" _If_ you're finished antagonising everyone." Haymitch interrupted, glaring at the argumentative blonde who simply scoffed childishly. "I _was_ suggesting that we put Katniss out in the field. It has to come from her, that's what people respond to. You want a symbol for the revolution. She cannot be coached into it, trust me…I would know."

"Maybe there's some place less dangerous?" Plutarch suggested evidently on board with the idea.

Beetee quickly supplied a solution, indicating that the President was indeed outnumbered in the room of allies. "District 8. They reported heavy bombing. No military targets left"

"We can't guarantee her safety."

"You'll never be able to guarantee my safety." Katniss immediately responded to Coin, speaking for the first time since entering the room: "I want to go."

"And if you're killed?"

"She won't be. I'll be there to protect her if things go south." Quinn spoke, glancing up from the table and meeting the Girl on Fire's eyes as she immediately agreed to the partnership.

"And if you're both killed?" Coin continued to press, causing the older victor to roll her eyes.

Katniss nodded to the ally that despite their differences, she trusted with her life:

"Make sure you get it on camera."

* * *

"You were a tough one." Beetee spoke, drawing Quinn's gaze from Gale. "With such versatility in your weapon choice, I couldn't decide which would serve you best. I made you these…" The ashen faced man smiled handing her a box. With a slight frown, she pulled it open to reveal two long daggers. "There's a button on the side which will coat the blades in a paralytic poison, be careful not to cut yourself with them."

"They're beautiful, thank you." A genuine smile grazed her face, brightening her eyes as she looked down at him.

"And a simple bow for long distance." The man added, handing her a beautiful black bow slightly similar to the one he had handed to Katniss. "Just in case. Could you tell Finnick that I have made a trident for him, when he's ready…I hoped it might cheer him up."

Quinn paused on her way to the door, turning around to face the intelligent victor with a slight smile.

"Thank you."

* * *

Quinn huffed (much to Gale's amusement) as Effie pulled and teased at her hair, trying to make her 'camera ready'. She muttered about looking the part as a member of Katniss' propaganda team whilst dabbing powder on the reluctant and very much disgusted victor's face.

"Stop fidgeting!" The woman hissed as Quinn swatted her hand away for the seventh time and shifted her weight to her other foot with a sigh.

"It's a war not a fashion show!" The younger woman hissed back, her eyes alight with a venom that she was trying her hardest to maintain.

"As charming as ever!" Effie scolded, pinning a wisp of hair to the side of her head as the girl almost growled. "And yet one of the most adored victors…"

The victor from five was never more grateful for the appearance of Katniss Everdeen than when she was released by Effie and allowed to breath in air that wasn't tainted by powder.

"Who'd have thought it, the Ice Queen allied with the Girl on Fire." Katniss muttered causing Quinn to smirk beside her in remembrance of the night before the Quarter Quell.

As they stepped onto the jet with Gale behind them, they looked like a formidable force. Both held expressions of utter defiance laced with the confidence that they could get the job done. Both itching to taste the air above the surface, to feel the string of their bow slip through their fingers, to hear their arrows slice the air and to see the destruction in the world that they had vowed to save.

Unlikely heroes.

Unlikely allies.

And even more unlikely friends.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

Her fingertips twitched at the thought of being out in the field, at the chance to escape the prison that was District 13. As Plutarch introduced them to the camera crew – Cressida, Messalla, Castor and Pollux – Quinn nodded in greeting as Katniss muttered acknowledgements, looking like a deer caught in headlights. As the group fastened their seatbelts and made idle chitchat whilst the jet prepared for flight, the victor from 5 had decided that she liked Pollux purely for the superficial reason that he couldn't force her into unwanted conversations. Gale shook his head at her, fighting a tiny smile as she scoffed and rolled her eyes whilst Cressida told the younger brunette that they had fled the Capitol for her.

"I'm glad that I can finally film the Ice Queen in action." The blonde director spoke, drawing Quinn's gaze to her blue eyes and tattooed head, although her expression remained passive. "The Capitol was always raving about you. It's a shame that we couldn't have met under better circumstances."

"There are no better circumstances." She responded coldly, her gaze returning to the dagger as she spun it around her fingertips. A smile slowly spread across Cressida's pale lips as she nodded once in agreement; the young woman's reputation had most definitely preceded her.

The rest of the journey was fairly silent, much to Quinn's relief. Her mind wandered to Finnick and then the mission and Peeta, then back to Finnick causing her to mentally kick herself for allowing those feelings to push through her hard exterior and feed the demons that tormented her every thought. It was a distraction, a weakness that she did not need nor want.

The dust and ashes that coated the concrete floor of District 8 whipped her hair as they huddled in a group until the jet took off, abandoning them to the ruins of the city. The atmosphere caused her to cough and reminded her of the centre of the arena during her games – a memory that she would rather forget as it lived so vividly in her mind; pushing it back into the lockbox at the centre of her mind, she almost felt the warm sticky blood of her district partner as it splattered her face and oozed over her snow-white hands. Subconsciously, she wiped her palms on her suit, ignoring the slight tremor that accompanied her trips to the past. Taking as deep a breath as the dusty air would allow, she glanced forward to see Commander Paylor, who seemed surprised to find that the Mockingjay had survived. As they followed the leader of District 8 into a derelict hospital, Quinn's stomach flipped as she was smacked in the face by the thick stench of decaying bodies. The corridors were lined with bloody corpses, nothing but a plastic sheet separating them from the wounded. The massive room on the other side of the curtain was filled with families; the air was thick with infection and the smell of rotting flesh suffocated the only oxygen available. Her blue eyes watered at the stench of death forcing her to swallow heavily. As she stepped forward, her boots splashed into a large puddle of innocent blood causing her eyes to widen and her jaw to tense as she looked at the thick sticky red liquid that coated the black leather on her feet. She met Gale's stare which comfortingly mirrored her concern as pity oozed through their sapphire eyes for the people that had become victims of their rebellion. A horrible feeling of guilt settled in as she watched the families grieve over the dead bodies of their children, their fathers and mothers. The Capitol had truly done everything in their power to break the people of the Panem and it was in that moment that Quinn realised that perhaps the idea of the Mockingjay as a symbol of hope was not as futile as she had originally suspected, regardless of whether or not she thought they had chosen the right person.

"Don't film me in here." Katniss pleaded, her face full of fright as it waltzed with helplessness. "I can't help them."

"Just let them see your face." Cressida instructed, nodding in encouragement as the girl copied the motion numbly.

"Maybe dial down the terror a notch." Quinn whispered, patting her shoulder. "For some reason, they believe in you so just go in there and remind them why…and breathe through your mouth."

A ghost of a smile crossed The Girl on Fire's face as she squeezed her unlikely supporter's hand before stepping further into the room. Quinn stood back at the entrance with Gale, watching in case Katniss should need them. As the surviving members of District 8 stood, circling around the small brunette archer, her fingers grew twitchy. They itched to grab her daggers or the bow on her back; yearned to spill blood – an impulse that she had yet to control. She was a soldier by nature and that nature was so wild and untamed that she wondered how she might cope, should she survive the war.

"Katniss Everdeen?" A young girl asked through the crowd, snapping the blonde back to reality. "What are you doing here?"

"What about the baby?" The voice of an older woman soon interrupted as Katniss explained that she was there to see them.

There was a moments silence as the archer stared at the woman, speechless. Quinn momentarily worried that she would find herself entangled in the lie that Peeta once told and lose the respect and sympathy that it had afforded her.

"I…I lost it." The younger girl mumbled, pain so evident in her eyes that no one could question her.

"Will you fight, Katniss?" Another voice rang out, drawing the attention of everyone. Their eyes landed on a young boy – perhaps no older than fourteen – as he stood, a rifle attached to his back like an extra limb. He was malnourished and the fatigue wore lines on his face, darkening his eyes. He was much too young to face the worries and the losses of a war that claimed him as a victim and that angered the victor from five; sparked the fires of retribution that had been significantly snuffed in her time enclosed miles under the earth. The will to fight rebooted as she scanned the crowd of broken souls, felt the darkness that dampened their spirits and festered in their wounds. "Are you here to fight with us?"

"I am." Katniss answered, nodding solemnly before turning her gaze to Quinn who nodded in encouragement. " _We_ are. We will."

Slowly, the occupants of the room kissed their fingers and held up their hands in the symbol of unity. The symbol of the Mockingjay and the rebellion. They were no army and these people were certainly not soldiers but they were a unit and in that moment, Katniss had inspired such hope that they had felt indestructible.

After Cressida and her team had finished filming, the small group exited the makeshift hospital – the makeshift tomb – and headed towards their pick-up point. Suddenly, Boggs' scanner burst into life, indicating bombers approaching their location. As the air raid sirens run throughout the district, battering their eardrums incessantly, survival mode activated and they ran for the nearest bunker under the direction of Paylor.

Retreating didn't feel right to Quinn. If they were to be sent on missions to paint targets on the backs of their people, then she wanted nothing to do with it. Anyone caught breathing the same air as the rebels was to be exterminated like the vermin ordering the assassinations. It was wrong.

It appeared as if the younger victor beside her had shared her thoughts as she deviated from the group and towards the gunshots. The futile gunshots that would do nothing to sink an aircraft – do nothing to sway a missile. The remaining members of the group shouted in protest as the young girl stood by the wall, glancing to the sky to gain vision. Instinctively, Quinn ran towards her as her ice blue eyes caught sight of the tiny black dot falling from the blue abyss above them. Grabbing the girl's shoulder, she threw her to the ground as the building shook violently and the wall blew inwards, covering them in rubble. The heat that soared through the hole in the brickwork was blistering but left them untouched as it licked the cement that coated their skin.

Katniss glanced sideways through the dusty air to the victor who had potentially saved her life but one glare was enough to convey a thousand words of insult. Quinn's ears were ringing from the blast as she stood up, unable to hear the shouts of Boggs. A muffled sound of shifting rock finally broke through her sound barrier as she turned slowly to see the tower behind them wobble before toppling towards them. Within seconds, Gale had sprung forward pulling the victors from harm as the tower smashed through the glass which seared across Quinn's cheek leaving glistening red war paint.

"They're going after something in the south." Gale informed as the trio searched the skies from the newly blown archway.

"The hospital." Quinn responded as two fighter jets circled around and flew past them.

Katniss nodded in agreement before shouting: "They're circling around, come on!"

Following Katniss, they watched their step as they ran across the rubble and through the flames towards the makeshift hospital that held the entire population of District 8. Quinn climbed the staircase of a nearby building, two steps at a time, to reach the roof. Ducking as the jets pierced the gunman beside them with bullets, she felt nothing but rage. The hospital stood a few hundred metres away, black smoke billowing from the blown in windows – there was nothing left to save. As a jet circled back over them, firing in their general direction, Katniss yanked Quinn and Gale down behind the sandbags. Cowering was not something that the victor from five was used to doing but as her companions held her gently, she knew that it was a necessary surrender. Another bomb soared through the hospital as the small group realised that it had been their only target. Red hot rage burned through Quinn's veins as she pulled one of the explosive arrows out of Katniss' quiver as the girl stood in front of her. Feeling the light tug on her back, the brunette turned to face the stony expression that she had grown used to – the caged animal had been released.

As Quinn nocked the arrow and positioned herself in line with the circling jets' flight path, Katniss and Gale followed her lead. The three stood, arrows ready to fly, like something from the stories of heroes and yet Quinn felt like anything but. As the jets drew nearer, her gaze remained solid and her fingers twitched happily at the familiar feeling. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she took a deep breath, soaking it in to the simplest of her cells. Her body felt awaked as it remained perfectly still, a tiny smirk toying at the right side of her pale pink lips whilst the bullets aiming for her heart ricocheted off the crumbling building. This was her playground. She had been born in District 5 but she had grown in the battlefield. The blood that pumped through her veins was made for destruction and she thrived in it. Katniss and Gale sent their arrows to the jet on the left but Quinn waited. The wild beast within her wanted to see the fear in the eyes of its prey. Witness the terror in the whites of their eyes. Pulling back the bow string a little farther, she caught the shimmer of white and sent the arrow straight for the destructive pilot who within a matter of seconds would land on the ground as nothing but a collected pawn in her game of chess against the Capitol.

The jets spun out of control, whirling like a fan on a hot summer's day and soon collided with the hospital and the tower that accompanied it. Denied the chance to revel in the kill, Quinn darted down the stairs after her teammates. Heartlessly, she rolled her eyes at the naivety that Katniss exuded. The young girl panted in panic as she considered the possibility that they had just killed the survivors of the District. A wiser man would know that in their condition, they had done them a favour – there was no chance that the wounded would have made it out of the burning and crumpling building alive. No chance.

The entire District was an inferno around them. Flames licked the clouds that hung happily in the sky, ignorant to the destruction and despair that they curtained. The film crew and Boggs stood at the centre of the flames as Katniss wailed and begged them to help the survivors, unwilling to accept that there was never anything that she could have done. She endangered them the second she stepped foot into the dusty cemetery that District 8 had been. As the girl cried, Quinn felt nothing but a pit of emptiness. She was so used to losing that life meant very little to her anymore and she doubted that it was a defect that could ever be mended in her dark and twisted mind.

"Katniss? Katniss, can you tell everyone what you're seeing right now?" Cressida asked, lifting the camera equipment to the distraught young girl. Quinn's fist immediately tightened before Boggs clasped her shoulder and nodded gravely. "What do you want to say?" The director continued, pointing to the helmet that Pollux wore as an indication of where the girl should look.

"I want the rebels to know that I am alive. That I'm in District 8, where The Capitol just burned a hospital filled with unarmed men, women and children. And there will be no survivors." The hearts of the team surrounding the Mockingjay felt heavy. Tears brimmed in the eyes of many as Quinn clenched her jaw in anger. _They would not get away with this. He will not get away with this._ "If you think for one second that The Capitol will ever treat us fairly, you are lying to yourself because we know who they are and what they do!" Katniss yelled, pointing to the pile of rock, metal and flames that was once the hospital. " _This_ , is what they do and we must fight back!" She pleaded, breathing heavily through anger and passion as she turned to face Castor, who held the second camera. "I have a message for President Snow. You can torture us and bomb us and burn our districts down but do you see that?" She asked through gritted teeth and tearful eyes, pointing at the remains of one of the jets they had shot down. "Fire is catching and if we burn, you burn with us!"

* * *

The group remained captive to a deafening silence upon returning to their underground prison. Quinn felt her stomach churn as Coin gathered the District for a viewing of the propaganda video that had been cut and pasted from Katniss' grief. From their grief. As the crowd burst into cheers and applause at the end of the video, Quinn glanced down at them in disgust. This was not some movie that they had viewed for pleasure and they were not some actors that had been paid a ridiculous amount of money to stand in a circle of imaginary fire. This was real life and regardless of whether or not she had convinced herself that the wounded were already dead, it was her arrow that had sealed their fate; her arrow that provided the backdrop for Katniss' awe-inspiring speech. And that made her sick.

"There is no progress without compromise." Coin began, silencing the crowd. "No victory without sacrifice. But I stand here with the Mockingjay to announce that our moment has arrived!"

As the greying woman lifted Katniss' arm like a victor in a battle and the crowd erupted into cries of adoration and whistles of pride, Quinn felt a surge of wrath and she had had enough. Her temper flared to unknown bounds as she stood behind the self-proclaimed president like a good little soldier. Coin's words soon fell on deaf ears as her fingernails dug deep into the palm of her hands as the shook violently, trying to maintain control. Finnick glanced at her warily, knowing the expression on her face all too well as Katniss reclaimed her position beside them. As the crowd burst into a chant, Quinn saw nothing but a red haze. They were no better than the Capitol. They stood on their balconies chanting a fight song, revelling in the aftermath of another kill that had been delivered at the hands of their adored victors. Innocent people that had been murdered by their heroes.

As her demons taunted her, she brushed past Finnick and stormed off the high perch that Coin had placed them on. She had believed herself unworthy of the placement above others but as she listened to them rejoice in the death of others, she knew that she ought to be higher. Stepping outside, the frustration grew too much for her as she turned down an empty corridor and threw her fist into the nearest wall. Every ounce of her being trembled in an uncontrollable rage as she screamed in frustration and punched the wall again, leaving nothing but flakes of torn skin and streaks of bright red blood in her wake. Fury soon turned to despair as the darkness within her suggested that perhaps Katniss' feelings were right. _You did kill those people_. Thumping the wall once more as her hand bled and her knuckles throbbed, her mind was a dam of raw emotion waiting to overflow. _It was your jet that finished them. You hesitated. You killed them._

As she lifted her fist and prepared for another mindless collision, a pair of arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly. Tears of anger brimmed in her eyes, so hot that they reminded her of the fires that charred their skin. The dam was cracking and there was nothing that she could do to hold it. The arms around her, held her head close to a toned chest and as she breathed in the familiar scent, she lost the strength to control the wave of turmoil that drowned her every blink. A strained cry escaped through her lips as she slid to the floor, unable to support herself any longer. Her chest felt knotted as the lump in her throat choked her of air. Clutching onto the arms that cradled her, she turned her rage inward. It was a fault in her mechanisms, a means of control in a world that was out to obliterate her. She had murdered many in her life time but she had never felt so helpless and she loathed it. She _hated_ herself for allowing the water to spill over the dam that held her together, for allowing the demons to pick the locks of their cage. She was broken and the glue that she had used to mend the cracks hadn't held up against the inferno of innocent lives that burned at her feet.

Breathing through the anger as it ebbed away, she turned and wrapped her arms around the victor's neck as he held her steady. He knew that silence was always the best option when the cracks reappeared and so did nothing as she held him tightly, trembling from the inner battle for control. Placing a slow and lingering kiss on her temple, he grounded her as her breathing slowed. This was one of the moments that they would never talk about. Where actions spoke louder than words, where emotions ran so deep that they were entwined with the very code of their DNA; they were felt but they need not be spoken. To many, three little words would describe the feeling they shared and yet in this case it did not scratch the surface, it was shallow with the need of self-validation or reciprocation. No, there were no words that could describe what passed between them and though many tried, their attempts had been in vain. Emotions had been something that chastised her; rage and hatred had been all she could cope with but when something different arrived, she loathed the source: _him._

Pulling away slightly, she glanced at the bloodied mess that donned her knuckles as she wiggled her fingers to check they weren't broken. The pain was bearable and no less than she deserved so she sighed and finally looked up into the sea green eyes. To him, her eyes looked like the ocean after a rainstorm, greyer than the blue that reflected the sky on a summer morning. With the pad of his thumb, he wiped away the stray tears that had broken free, despite her best attempts. She considered him for a moment, her heart beating in her ears as she saw the concern etched across his brow and her painful expression reflected in his eyes before she did something that surprised them both.

To many, it would have been a simple gesture; something that meant very little in a relationship but to the pair of broken souls that had been sewn together as they did their best to survive, it meant everything. She would never be able to offer him the world. She had spent so long locking her heart away that she was terrified when he found a key. In truth, Quinn didn't know if he meant everything to her, she didn't know if she could treat him the way that he deserved. She was terrified of losing him because she had been foolish enough to hand him her heart. She knew that he wouldn't break it but she was a villain in Snow's world, an uncontrollable force and so she feared that whilst the man in front of her would not break her, the villain in her story would break him. But as her lips met his and foolishness took hold in her moment of weakness, she did not care. Selfishness had always influenced her moves and so she did not pull away as his hands cradled her face and he kissed her more deeply; nor as the fear in her mind begged her to leave him, screamed that it was easier to never have him and keep him alive than to love him and lose him. She knew that she was being weak but she allowed selfishness the victory. As foolish as it may be, her weakness for him would not allow her to deny the emotions that bound them together.

Loving her was a death sentence. Regardless of its unspoken position, as she pulled him closer to her, she was painting a giant target on his back. She was volatile and unyielding, reckless and insubordinate. She was clueless, drowning in the pool of emotion that she had grown so used to hiding. She did not know how to love him and she doubted that she ever would. She did not know if she could protect him in the fight for freedom, nor if she could survive the war.

But she knew one thing as her heart hammered in her chest:

 _It was real._


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.**

"Couldn't sleep either?" A voice echoed through the corridor causing her to halt mid-step and look through the doorway leading to the weaponry. Her tired gaze caught sight of Gale as he sat at the desk surrounded by large sheets of paper.

"Nope." She sighed, running her hands over her face as she approached him. "Not from lack of trying. What are you working on?"

Glancing back up, he watched as she tilted her head to get a better look before sliding into the seat in front of him.

"These are the blueprints for some of the weapons that Beetee and I have been designing." He responded after a moment, gliding the large parchment across the table to her, watching as she studied it closely before frowning whilst picking at the bandage that covered her knuckles.

"Is there any way to reduce the blast radius?" She asked, looking up. "I mean we can use it if we have to but if we could target the area directly with minimal casualties, that would be great."

Laughing lightly at her facial expression, Gale nodded in agreement: "We're working on it but we've no solution yet."

"Don't look at me, I know nothing about bombs." Quinn added, raising her hands slightly before catching a yawn that threatened to betray her. In truth, she had been kept awake by the memories of the death and decay that had swept through District 8. Each time she closed her eyes, she witnessed the fighter jet colliding with the hospital and her mind immediately concocted a thousand possibilities, a thousand ways in which a millisecond sooner would have save the hundreds of lives. The guilt gnawed at her in the early hours of the morning; prisoners running their tin mugs along the bars that caged them, calling taunts to the ignorance that guarded them.

"Hey." His voice snapped her gaze from the table to him. "I lost you for a moment. Where did you go?"

"Nowhere. I'm just tired."

Surveying her expression for a moment, the young man from twelve realised how similar they were - both motivated by their short-tempered nature with a belly full of fire and a tsunami of emotions locked behind their eyes - and so he simply nodded: "You know where I am if you need me."

Fighting tiredness once more and avoiding the conversation, Quinn rose from her seat. "I'm going to go and see if this hand is any use."

* * *

Sweat beaded across her brow as her muscles burned with the increase in fatigue. The knuckles on her right hand ached as she admitted defeat and cast the bow aside, grabbing one of her long-bladed daggers as a substitute. Glancing sideways, she saw Haymitch standing with his arms crossed watching her as she fought with the holographic figures that pounced on her from every direction. The system had nothing on the ones in the training centre but on the highest difficulty were enough to break a sweat and stir a flashback to the monkey mutations in the Quarter Quell arena as the scars across her torso ached in accompaniment.

Sinking her dagger into the forehead of the last image, she hopped out of the stimulation to face the man as he eyed her bandaged hand with an unimpressed expression and a raised eyebrow.

"Little misunderstanding with a wall." She shrugged, gulping down the water between breaths.

"Can you still use it?" Haymitch asked tossing her a chunk of bread from breakfast as she nodded once in confirmation. "I don't have to kick your ass then."

"Bring it, old man." The young woman chuckled, ripping the bread and scoffing it promptly as she had forgotten that meal times were something that she had to abide by on the new schedules that Coin had provided for them. Naturally, Quinn had yet to attend anything during her allocated slot.

Haymitch, smirking in amusement, removed the weaponry from the victor's vicinity before beginning his next sentence: "Listen, Coin wants..."

"I don't care what Coin wants."

"She wants you to record a video, to show your District that you are still alive." He continued stubbornly as she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. "I don't like her either, I mean how could I with the certain bans she's put in place? But saying that, her sources say that many in District 5 believe you to have died in the Games. Peeta was the last person to be seen with you and he spoke of you in the past tense. The people blame the rebellion for forcing you to defend Katniss."

"Her sources are wrong. Anyone who knew me knows that I can't be forced to do anything."

"They won't join us."

"Then they might live." Quinn retorted, her voice raised a little more than she intended as she stared through his soul with her icy gaze.

As silence engulfed them, Haymitch knew that there was no getting through to the stubborn blonde and so throwing his arms up in defeat, he turned to leave the room - meeting Finnick in the doorway: "Grumpy needs to sleep. Talk some sense into her."

"Keeping friends, I see." The victor from four grinned cheekily as he approached her, causing her to roll her eyes. "I didn't hear you get up. Did you sleep?" He asked with a yawn, not willing to talk her into conforming to whatever Haymitch was asking of her.

"Yeah, a bit." She lied noticing the concern that flitted across his sea-green eyes, "How are you feeling? You never had any nightmares last night."

"Better...until the next relapse." Finnick shrugged sitting down on the steps and catching her left hand in his as she squeezed his shoulder – a silent show of support. "You missed breakfast again."

"The food was better in the arena."

Following the girl's flippant response, Finnick knew not to press her regarding their new 'home'. He knew that she felt like a caged animal in the constraints of the district and so they sat in a comfortable silence as he ran his thumb over her knuckles, enjoying how close they had been in the last twenty-four hours. The victor had always been distant with her emotions and considering her past, he did not blame her and so he grateful that he had been lucky enough to see over the walls that she had expertly crafted around herself.

Suddenly, the screen burst into life, drawing their attentions. Quinn inhaled sharply as her gaze landed on Peeta as he clutched a white rose – Snow's symbol of ownership. His eyes were darker than she remembered, cradled by nothing but deep, black circles that matched his satin suit. His face was gaunt and considerably thinner than it had ever been and he looked nothing but a shell of the first person in a long time, that she had considered to be a friend.

"I wish I could give this rose to you, Katniss." He whispered, his voice helpless and striking a cord in Quinn's chest, reawakening the guilt that she felt but as the audience viewed the innocence of the statement, she saw something darker.

The camera then spanned to Caesar as he sat across from the boy: "Such a sweet gesture for a girl that inspired such violence. You must love her very much to be able to forgive her...I don't think I could. Unless, Peeta, you think that she's being forced into saying things that she doesn't even understand?"

"She must still have a following in The Capitol..." Finnick analysed, "They are trying to paint her as nothing but a pawn."

Peeta looked shocked at the presenter's statement before he nodded: "That's exactly what I think. They are using her to whip up the rebels. I doubt she knows what's happening and what's really at stake."

Nodding, Caesar spoke once more: "Now, Peeta, I doubt that the rebels with ever let her see this but if they do, what would you say to her? To Katniss Everdeen, your sweet Katniss Everdeen. What would you say?"

"I would tell her to think for herself." The victor from twelve spoke, turning his gaze to the camera. "Don't be a fool, Katniss. I know that you never wanted the rebellion...the things that you did in the games were never intended to start all of this. The rebels have made you into something that you're not, something that can destroy all of us. So, if you have any power or any say in what they do or how they use you...please. Please urge them to stop this war before it's too late and ask yourself, can you trust the people you're working with? Do you know what they really want?"

After listening to the voice that did not belong to the boy that she had grown to care for, Quinn was overcome with an explosion of guilt as she imagined the torture that he was going through. As his weakened body disappeared and the screen turned black once more, she stood from her seat in frustration. Her hands ran through her hair as her emotion pent up and she grabbed the rack that contained the bows and arrows before throwing it – and its contents – to the floor with as much force as she could muster, no longer caring about the searing hot pain that disjointed her hand. Fighting back the tsunami of emotion, she took a deep breath through her mouth as Finnick watched her silently.

"He's right..." She whispered almost inaudibly, a realisation dawning on her as she turned to look at the man behind her. "Peeta's right. We have no idea what the people barking orders want!"

As she looked at him, frantically, he could see her mind thinking quicker than she could process: "They want what we want...Freedom."

"You can't be naïve enough to think that is the only thing on their agenda!" Quinn scoffed, pacing back and forth as her hand swept her fringe from her face. "I have never trusted Coin. I have always had this feeling at the back of my mind and I couldn't decide what it was, but Peeta has just hit the nail on the head. She has to have an ulterior motive."

"Quinn, you need to be careful. You can't say things like that out loud." Finnick sighed as he stood and walked towards her.

"Exactly." She whispered, her eyes piercing his. "You are terrified that something is going to happen to me because I openly oppose her...nothing has changed."

The victor from four opened his mouth to argue with her but abandoned the idea as he realised that she was right. As they stared at each other for a moment, Gale appeared:

"Sorry to steal her away, Finnick but Coin's holding a meeting in command."

Nodding, Quinn responded: "I will be there in a minute." Waiting until the tall brunette had disappeared down the corridor, Quinn turned back to Finnick: "I won't be oppressed by another dictator, Finnick."

"Promise me that you won't do anything stupid." He asked, watching as she looked away from him, tensed her jaw and flared her nostrils slightly. "Quinn. Promise me." Pursing her lips, she sighed through her nose before turning back to him with a slight and unconvincing nod. As she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, he embraced her and muttered into her hair: "I just can't wait until all this is over and we can go home."

Quinn hummed in response as she placed a kiss on his cheek and pulled away. Once she had pulled her hair back into a ponytail, she picked up a much smaller dagger than the ones that Beetee had crafted for her and concealed it in a makeshift pocket that she had Effie sew into her uniform, "Yeah. District 5 is nice this time of year." A mischievous glimmer shone in her eyes as she looked up at him, recalling their pillow talk the previous night.

"District 4 is nice every time of year."

As he brushed her nose with his and grinned, Quinn rolled her eyes and nudged his chest, "If you don't get back in the field, I am going to grow tired of babysitting you." She muttered as she kissed him quickly and turned to leave the training room: "Then you can live in District 4 all you like."

A slight smile crossed her face and an almost forgotten feeling of happiness swelled in her chest; momentarily banishing the guilt and frustration as she left him standing in the room, hearing nothing but a false laugh as he called after her: "You're hilarious!"

* * *

Her mouth gaped open slightly as the door to the loading bay of the hovercraft opened and her eyes took in the state of District 12. Cressida jumped straight to directing Katniss as her team followed with Quinn and Gale followed up the rear, armed in case of trouble. The cameras sprang into action, filming Katniss' reaction to the wreckage of her home district as the team stood in front of the Justice Building.

"Katniss, tell us what happened here." Cressida prompted as Katniss fought the tears that threatened to spill over her flushed pink cheeks. Quinn glanced around the arena, understanding the loss that her fellow victor must be feeling.

"We were all standing right here, watching the games when you fired that arrow." A crackled voice broke through the silence, drawing all eyes to Gale. "The screens just went dark. Nobody had any idea what happened. Peacekeepers forced us back into our homes and for maybe an hour, the town was just dead quiet." The tall young man spoke as the group listened intently. "A little past nine, we heard the trucks pulling out all of them. Every single Peacekeeper and I knew what that meant...Me and a couple of guys from the mines, we started pulling people from their houses and tried to get them to the fence line but a lot of people were scared of the forest so they headed up to the road, make a break for it that way." He continued, his audience wearing similar frowns of concern as he pointed towards the open road. Sighing, he looked down before swallowing a mixture of emotions. As he turned and walked in the direction he had pointed, the others followed. "nine hundred and fifteen of us made it to the fence, then we watched as bombers circled back towards the road." Approaching a large pile of rubble, the group carefully climbed it. Quinn's boots barely gripped the debris as she forced herself forward, her feet slipping occasionally. "They firebombed them as they ran away." As she reached the top and stood behind Gale, her mouth dropped open as she covered it lightly with her hand. Her ice blue eyes scanned what was left of the road, viewing the thousands of charred skeletal remains as Gale crouched down. "nine hundred and fifteen out of ten thousand." There was a suffocating stench of burnt flesh that hung in the air causing Quinn's stomach to flip as she realised that some of the remains that she had thought were rubble, were much smaller skeletons. Children. "I should've grabbed people, I should've dragged them with me. Some of the kids, I could've carried."

As a tear slipped past his defence, Cressida comforted: "You saved so many people, Gale. Without you, there would be no District 12...not even the memory of it."

Quietly, Quinn stepped over the large rock that separated them and placed a hand on his shoulder to which he glanced at her and nodded in gratitude. Katniss watched them for a moment before joining them and gently grasping his other shoulder and the trio remained there as Cressida filmed them, muttering something to Castor about a show of solidarity.

* * *

The sun glistened on the lake, reflecting the rays across her blonde hair and lightly tanning her nose as the group sat down for lunch before the hovercraft came to collect them. There had been an air of awkwardness surrounding Katniss and Gale after visiting the victors' village which had been left untouched by the destruction – another taunt from Snow – and so the pair had actively avoided one another. As the rest of the group conversed in the pairs that they had split into, Gale and Quinn sat further back and remained blanketed in a heavy, emotionally-charged silence as they dealt with their inner demons. Chewing the inside of her gum as she thought about their morning, Quinn picked at her nails and stared out over the water; a familiar feeling of guilt toying with her conscience.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that." She finally spoke in a low tone, avoiding eye contact as blinked back tears of anger: "None of us thought about how our actions would have affected our homes and the people in it."

"It's not your fault."

"It's not yours either." Finally glancing to him, she met his gaze. Her words holding more meaning to them than any of the group that may be listening. Both knew what it was like to feel the incessant guilt that refused to diminish. As Cressida threw her a bag of rations, she smiled in thanks before dropping it at her feet as the nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach persevered. Sighing slightly, she caught Gale's questioning look: "I didn't think that joining Katniss on these...trips, would have any effect on me but..." She explained, shaking her head before pushing the food further away from her as the boy's blue eyes surveyed her expression before he nodded.

"I know the feeling." He muttered, taking a sip of water. "I come back feeling...completely powerless. And so angry that..."

"You want to punch a wall?" Quinn finished, smiling a little as she toyed with the bandage on her hand. Gale glanced to her hand before chuckling slightly. "I wanted more than anything to get out from hiding underground but we come here and we film and see the mess that we've made and then we just go back to hiding. It's infuriating."

"I thought I was the only one." Shaking her head slightly, Quinn met his gaze as they smiled at each other. Suddenly, the cliff surrounding the lake was alive with Mockingjays as they copied Pollux's whistle. "Well now they'll never shut up." Gale muttered as the small group listened intently, earning a slight chuckle from the victor to his right.

The whistles soon turned to an instrumental as Katniss began singing. As the group watched her with a mixture of expressions ranging from bittersweet sadness to something that Quinn couldn't quite decipher as it crossed Gale's face.

The rest of the excursion remained silent as they boarded the hovercraft once more and headed back to District 13. Sleep quickly became her enemy as it wrapped its tight clutch around her brain, stinging her eyes as they began to shut. Fighting it, she sat up in her seat and thought back to the state of District 12; she couldn't help but let her mind wander to the possibility of something similar happening to the people that she grew up with in District 5 – her neighbours, her teachers and the children that she donated her grain to each month – because of her actions.

Accidentally delving too deep into her darkened mind, she relived the whites of the pilot's eyes and watched as the fighter jet collided with the hospital in District 8. Taking a couple of deep breaths and closing her eyes to clear her mind, she clutched her throbbing knuckles in an attempt to stay grounded, ultimately failing as her inner turmoil created a series of new images to plague her nights: burning bodies – one with Finnick's shell necklace and golden bangle and the other with the burned reminants of Peeta's medallion. Jumping up in her seat to escape the nightmare that begged her to sleep, she quickly banishing the tears that collected around her eyes. Sniffing, she looked to the ceiling until a hand clasped hers. Looking to her right, she saw the District 12 victor who kept her gaze steadily in front of her but squeezed her hand in silent comfort.

* * *

"Thank you for your cooperation." President Coin smiled as Quinn and Finnick entered the room preparing to film the young woman's message for her home District – the fate of District 12 weighing heavily on her mind.

"Just so we are clear. I am not doing this propo for you, I am doing for my people; if they need encouragement to fight for their freedom then I will do what I can to inspire them." Quinn responded simply. A large variety of words flooded to the forefront of her mind but as she glanced over the woman's shoulder to the stern expressions that masked the features of Finnick and Haymitch, the victor knew to bite her tongue. Plutarch nodded with a smile to alert her that they were live and every set of eyes in Panem was on her and so she took a deep breath and looked into lens of the camera: "People of Panem, I want you to know that I am alive and I am fighting for your freedom. For our freedom. There will be people watching this that want you to surrender, that want you to accept that their rules are for the better but I will tell you one thing: I will not follow the commands of a foolish old man who sits in his ivory tower all day with no regard for the lives of his people. I refuse to. President Snow took everyone that I loved away from me, his rules have done nothing but hurt the very people that he is supposed to protect. Right now, he is trying to shut down my signal and then he will tell you that I am a criminal, a traitor. I cannot promise that I can protect you any better or that you won't lose people but I can promise you that if you stand by me, stand with the Mockingjay, you will never have been more free."

Haymitch smiled from the sidelines, nudging the victor from four as he watched the young woman, before whispering: "I knew she had it in her."

"District Five, I am now talking directly to you." Quinn continued, hesitant as for the first time in a while, she struggled to find the words that her people needed to hear. "I owe everything to you. You taught me many things in my lifetime, many things that helped me win my games. Many things that I will never forget. I have tried to look after our people, our children, as best I could by sharing everything I had and facing those consequences alone but as a district we are stronger than that. We should not have to work our fingers to the bone to provide electricity to the people who send us merely a fraction of the wealth that they make from our hard work. We power their machines. We cook their food and we run their economy. Without us, the Capitol would have nothing so why should we accept nothing in return? I have no right to ask anything of you but please, we have been on our knees long enough."

As she finished her plea, she tucked her pinkie underneath her thumb and kissed her fingers before raising it in support of the rebellion. Her companions in the room buzzed in excitement and pride as the cameras shut down but Quinn remained on the podium for a second and took a deep breath. There was no turning back now, she had publicly placed her head on the chopping block and asked people to put their lives on the line to join her. Glancing around the room, she found Finnick's stare and met it with a subtle frown as it crinkled the space between her brows and her eyes spoke volumes. She did not feel the elation of her peers. She had just painted targets on the foreheads of anyone who dare follow her and she would have to accept and deal with the consequences.


End file.
